I Never Realized
by Placidmage
Summary: a KenOmi story! (with some AyaYouji). It's mostly fluff, fun, humor, angst. . .Well, a little of everything. Including Schwarz. Chapter 7 is up! (finished?)
1. Pancakes

Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz, the characters, or any other copyrighted things I may happen to mention in this chapter or others that are obviously owned by other people other than me. I own nothing.  
  
A/N: Yay for my first Weiss Kreuz fanfiction! I am excited, are you? ^_~ Enjoy the Ken+Omi goodness.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I don't think I ever realized this before.  
  
It's funny how the most obvious things are always the ones that find you last. It's like the soccer game you miss on TV . . . no. . . no, it's not like that at all. Well it is in the sense that it's something you knew was there, but . . . You know what? It's probably just me.  
  
I'm really not good with words, and I'm always pretty oblivious to everything around me. This proves that for sure.  
  
I never looked at him that way before. I'm just his friend. Friends. Geez. I've been such an idiot all these years. I never used to look at him that way, but now I realize that slowly I was falling in lov - . . . no!!! There is no way I'm falling in love! Just because his smile is enough to twist my stomach into a million nervous knots doesn't mean anything more than that I was having a particularly nervous day.  
  
And yet, ever since Youji teasingly brought up my friendship with Omi as 'maybe something else', I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I find myself doing dirty, Yotan-like things that I would have never done if he hadn't brought it up! Like . . . like just now when Omi dropped that floppy disk while he was trying to find the right one to take out of his pocket and bent over to pick it up. . . I found myself staring. . .  
  
Needless to say I politely excused myself, flustered with a raging blush to take a walk in the nice, crisp fall air. I can testify to saying that the temperature is a little more than 'crisp'. That's good, though, because it's calming me down a little, but my heart is still racing a mile a minute. Omi doesn't deserve to be looked at like that. I'm such a jerk!  
  
Just him being around has been driving me insane for the past few days.  
  
I hope Youji's happy.  
  
" . . . "  
  
Okay, so I'm happy too . . . and I think I have a stupid lovesick grin on my face right now, but I'm not anxious to check.  
  
I have no right to love him. Heck, I don't have the right to be his friend. If I get too close, he'll just end up like everyone else who's ever been this close to me. I know that I always have trouble when I open myself up to much; allow myself to trust. That's what caused Kase's death. . . Of course I'm not saying that Omi isn't trustworthy! I'd trust him with my life, whether you think that's foolish or not, it's true.  
  
I know that Omi feels the same way, well, about the trusting part, at least, but if we keep going on like this, one of us is liable to get hurt. I'd do anything to make sure that person is me and not him. I think he realizes this too.  
  
Lately he's been pushing me away, and I know that's because we've gotten to be better friends and he's afraid of losing me, or losing himself by caring for me too much. It's dangerous to be close to anyone in this profession.  
  
We don't go out shopping together anymore. I think I miss that the most. Omi would always smile and ask me what kind of crackers I liked, or asking me to get things off higher shelves that he couldn't reach. It's hard to believe that I was turned-on while we were doing things like trying to find the bread isle. . . He never asks me to come with him anymore. The other day, he wouldn't even stay home at night with me when Youji and Aya were off on a mission together. I would have left him alone. It hurt when Omi said he had to 'meet a friend' . . . when I know he just wanted to get away from me.  
  
I can never touch him. That's what kills me, when he's just sitting two feet away. It hurts when he puts his hand on mine to say that everything's fine, and his hands are so soft I want to so kiss them so badly. . .  
  
But I can't . . . And I won't!  
  
He's my friend.  
  
He would hate me . . .  
  
I am content like this, just so long as I can be near him. Or at least that's what I thought until Yoji had to bring 'that' up. Damn dirty mind. . . I'm not usually like this, I swear!  
  
It's really cold out here; colder than the human icicle. That's Aya, I mean. He and Youji have been acting really strange lately. I'm just mentioning them now because I see them in Aya's car coming around the street corner. I'm not surprised they left the Sevens. . . it must be freezing in there without a top. I guess impractical cars are made for impractical people. It's nice to know they're concerned, but Omi isn't with them.  
  
Not that I suspected him to be there of course, it's just. . .  
  
"Yo! Kenken," The window next to me rolls down as Yoji calls out through the slowing car. I kept walking.  
  
"Get in, you idiot. I'm no doctor, but you're gonna catch a cold if you stay out here too long without a proper jacket." I frowned at him, "Oi, what is with this guy?" He asked himself, "Aya, stop the car." He did.  
  
Yikes. Yoji looks pissed. Well, either that, or he's thinking of several various ways to humiliate me on the spot and it has him in deep concentration. This is not a good start to a Saturday. Did I wake him up or something . . . ? Aya rolled up the window after Youji got out, so I'm pretty much convinced the only purpose Aya had in coming here was Chauffer. At least he wouldn't be able to hear our conversation if Yotan was outside with me.  
  
"Okay, Ken. Spill."  
  
"Spill what?"  
  
"The beans."  
  
"What beans?" I asked innocently, continuing to walk, hands clasped protectively around my soccer ball.  
  
"The beans in your head that possessed you to sing 'hit me baby one more time' in the shower this morning," I blanched. That was not meant to be heard. "Aha! Hit a nerve did I? So, seriously, Ken, if you've got the hots for someone, let me know." He winked, "I'll hook you up."  
  
I blushed as I thought about Omi. Great; just great. If it wasn't enough that my friendship with Omi has been jeopardized, Youji's suspicious. Well, he is my other best friend, so I don't know why I want to keep this a secret. I mean, it's not like he doesn't know I like guys. He does too. I should know. The first time we met, he tried to hit on me.  
  
Omi is a different case altogether, of course.  
  
"I appreciate your concern, but I'm not interested in having my love life train-wrecked before I even have one."  
  
"Ouch. That's harsh, Kenken." He made a face, "It hurts." He pointed sarcastically to his heart, "Right here."  
  
"Shut up, Kudou," I growled.  
  
. . . And when Ken Hidaka growls, it's seriously time to back off. I'm glad Youji understands at least that much.  
  
"Fine. I won't say another word, but just know that I've got your back. Omi's kinda worried about you too, because you left so abruptly. You have a really bad habit of doing that, and it usually doesn't mean good news."  
  
"You're a bit talkative for someone who 'won't say another word'." I smiled weakly, white breath rolling off my tongue in the frigid air, still angry, but it's hard to stay angry at Youji for too long when he's being so agreeable. He's not always so agreeable, mind you.  
  
"And -you're- a bit hot-headed for someone who claims he's in love."  
  
"Yeah, I guess you have a point. . ." I stopped mid-sentence, "Hey! I never said I was in love!"  
  
"You did just now." Youji grinned, shivering at the cold before running his fingertips through his hair, "I am just too good at this . . . . Now get in the damn car before we both freeze our asses off."  
  
"I hate you." I scowled.  
  
"You do now." The man said cunningly as he opened the door, "But you'll thank me later."  
  
Yeah, whatever. Youji can really cheat Schuldig out of his job sometimes. He's better at messing with minds than anyone I've ever seen. . . including that Nazi. Or it could just be that I'm easy to mess with. Either way, I'm pretty sure my Saturday just got worse. I just pray that Youji won't try anything funny. Maybe since I'm nice and coming home with him instead of going out and getting drunk, he'll cut me some slack . . . okay, never mind, this is Yotan we're talking about. The only thing we can do is pray.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
No, I'm not looking at Omi. Okay, so I'm -trying- not to look at Omi, but it's not working. He's just so cute when he's typing on the computer, even if I only see his back.  
  
The good thing about backs is that they don't smile. When Omi smiles I completely melt, and even though that goes completely unnoticed to him, I know it won't go unnoticed by a certain Youji Kudou who has been following me around for two friggin' hours and is currently pretending to be absorbed in a book.  
  
You know what? If I don't start doing something besides staring at Omi's back I'm really going to look suspicious. . .  
  
That's it! Aya's newspaper! That's harmless enough, and it'll give me a cover. Just be casual, Ken; casual.  
  
Damnnit! I dropped the newspaper. So much for 'casual'. . .  
  
Now Youji's looking at me funny. I drop things all the time, why is he looking at me funny? Is it my hair? My expression? . . . . . . . . . oh. It might be the fact that I'm holding the newspaper upside down.  
  
. . . But I can't turn it right side up right now because then Aya, who is currently walking right into the room, would know that I actually have been reading a newspaper that is upside down for a full five minutes! Man this is so confusing! What if Yoji says something? What if Omi turns around?! Why am I getting so freaked out? I'm sweating so much that some of the ink is rubbing off on my fingers. Okay, so it always does that, it's only that he's cute, no, he's hot and cute, and his ass is so tight and . . .  
  
"Ken?"  
  
"AHHH!" I jumped, "Aya, don't scare me like that!!!!"  
  
"Umm. . . I just thought I should point out that you're reading the newspaper upside down."  
  
"Eh heh," I laughed nervously, sweating profusely, I'm sure of it now, "You see. . . . I was just. . ."  
  
"Nevermind. I don't want to know." I can't believe he's walking away. Just after interrupting me like that. I can't even think of a good comeback! Man, I'm such an idiot! And as if it weren't enough, Youji's over there snickering. But I can almost smile at that, while resisting the urge to beat him senseless. What really hurts is that Omi isn't even turning around.  
  
He must really think I'm an idiot. Why else would he completely ignore that whole scene? Well, he's a genius, so I must just look like a dumb jock. He'd be right. I can't ever compare to him, which is why I don't even deserve to be his friend. I've known that for too long, and yet somehow he always used to hang around me. Not recently, though. . . .  
  
'Now you've done it, Ken' I can hear my inner conscience telling me, 'you knew you didn't have a chance with Omi before, but now you don't for sure.'  
  
. . . This would be the part where I curse myself and stomp out of the room, except that would make me even more idiotic. I can't even get some fresh air because Youji would follow me all the way to the other side of the country if I decided that's where I was going. I really don't want to face him right now, well, not the horny Youji. I really need my best friend Youji right now.  
  
Glancing over there at that giggling mess behind a copy of 'Great Expectations', I realize it would probably be best if I just went and made dinner or something.  
  
No one spoke as I left the room, so I guess that's a good sign, but I heard Yoji stop laughing. When I'm not angry, it's not funny anymore. Somehow, I don't get that. I slammed a pot on the counter and looked around the kitchen for an apron.  
  
Well, I guess my Koneko apron is going to have to do this time . . . so long as I don't get it covered in tomato sauce or something, Aya won't bite my head off. Well, either way I don't think he'd literally 'bite my head off', but you never know.  
  
Where the heck is that cooking book? Ah. Here.  
  
Lessee. . . spaghetti? Nah. Omi doesn't like that. . . or chicken either. What else can I make? Hmm. Think. Think. Great, now I sound like Winnie the Pooh. Isn't there anything I can make in this book? No. I keep flipping through these stupid pages, and they either sound gross, impossible to make, or Omi doesn't particularly like them. . . I probably shouldn't worry about what Omi likes or not because there's no way anything I cook will help things between us, but somehow I enjoy it when someone . . . well, when someone I love enjoys something that I've done.  
  
Pancakes!  
  
That's it! Pancakes! Omi loves pancakes! To hell with traditional dinners; I'm going to make one baddass breakfast. So, smiling slightly, now, I reach inside the kitchen drawer to find the spatula when there's a sudden feather- light hand bringing warmth to my shoulder. I turn around, and it's almost like looking into the face of an angel. I can't breathe; much less speak.  
  
It's like I have something caught in my throat and my entire brain shuts down to let my heart speed up. I have no authority to tell my body what to do. I'm only at the mercy of his touch, and I can only barely hear what he has to say through the emotions that strangle my ears and my heart.  
  
"Ken-kun?" Omi looked at me with concern.  
  
"Oh, uh. . . hi Omi"  
  
( -I'm falling. . . - )  
  
"What's wrong?" He stepped closer, and I stepped backward, letting his hand fall off my shoulder. It was driving me insane, as much as I wanted it to stay there, I was too afraid that I'd lose control.  
  
"What do you mean? I'm fine. Just making dinner early so we can save it for later," I grinned, rubbing my hand behind my head nervously. What are you doing to me Omi?  
  
( -. . . In love . . .- )  
  
"Ken-kun," the angel smiled, taking my hand and the spatula with it, leaning slightly into the space dividing us, "It's not even your turn to cook. Let me help you."  
  
"I'm fine, really, Omi. You can leave it to me." I blushed at his touch. The way he leans forward like that makes me turn my head to the side. If I look him straight on I'm liable to do something I might regret.  
  
(- . . . with you- )  
  
Omi looked at the spatula. God he's adorable when he looks puzzled. Suddenly it was as if a light bulb appeared above his head, and he looked bouncily excited. "You're making pancakes, Ken-kun?!"  
  
"Yeah, glad you noticed. I know you like them," I said, smiling as I moved over to grab the bag of flour from one of the higher cupboards.  
  
"You sure you don't want any help?" He asked a second time, less forcefully, and in such a way that it was impossible for me to turn him down.  
  
"Sure," I pointed to the cabinet and then the fridge, "you can grab a bowl and two eggs, I think I have everything else," I counted the ingredients as I placed them on the countertop. This feels like old times. Just having Omi here next to me makes me happier than I've been in a long time. I'm so happy that we can still do things that friends do every now and again, though I'm surprised he would talk to me after that whole scene where Aya blew my cover, I'm certainly not complaining.  
  
It's so much fun to watch Omi putting all the ingredients together. He's always so meticulous, while being careless at the same time. Not a single drop is wasted in the mixing process, and yet, he dips his finger in to taste when all is through.  
  
"Omi, I think that has egg in it. You probably shouldn't eat that." I suggested from my station where I was currently spreading the butter on the heated pan.  
  
"But I need to taste if it's sweet enough." He pouted, sucking on his finger with a thoughtful look before removing it from his mouth.  
  
"Are pancakes supposed to be sweet?" I asked him, thinking to myself how sweet Omi looked with his finger in his mouth and his eyes averted in thought. Forget the pancakes. I could just eat him up . . . but, then again, that's Youji's influence in me talking.  
  
"I like my pancakes sweet," Omi replied, leaning onto me from the right. "How do you like your pancakes, Ken-kun?"  
  
I froze instantly. Omi is leaning on me. Good lord, Omi is leaning on me. His hair is brushing against the side of my loose jacket, and the stray strands brush against my cheek. Is it just me, or are my pants just a little bit tighter? Why is Omi playing with me?! Is this some cruel joke? We can't get this close! I'll only end up hurting him in the end. It will all be my fault. . .I. . . I. . .  
  
"I like my pancakes with. . . strawberries," I paused, gulping, and stepping away from the bowl of batter to relieve Omi of his comfortable rest.  
  
I'm frightened of my feelings.  
  
"Gomen, I- I have to go." I announced, wide-eyed, "I'll finish later, okay?" I stumbled out of the kitchen.  
  
Oh, no, Omi looked totally crushed. I hope it wasn't something I did. I can't stand to see him disappointed like that. Darn! It was something I did, wasn't it? But he knows how risky it is to be a friend in times like these . . . even if friendship is the only thing that keeps us going, I have to be prepared to lose him if it comes to that.  
  
What frightens me is that I wouldn't be prepared. I wouldn't be prepared at all. . . So that's why I'm going to see Youji. Aside from the scintillating conversation, he always has some kind of advice that might not be relevant, but hey, I'll go for just about anything. I'll listen to anything to get Omi out of my mind and to get me back on the Weiss Track. Get it? Weiss Track? Heh. Oh, well. You're a tough audience.  
  
Wow. Youji actually looks happy to see me. Maybe it's giving him an ego boost or something. I can't believe I'm actually this desperate.  
  
"Well, well, well. We've got a sorry looking one. What do you seek?"  
  
" 'What do you seek'?" I repeated mockingly.  
  
"I dunno. It sounded cool at the time. So what's up?" He lit a smoke.  
  
"How do you forget about love?" I asked, biting my lip.  
  
"You can't do that, Ken," He said simply, pointing to the end of his bed "Sit down. This might take a while."  
  
I usually try to avoid coming into Youji's room at all costs, but in this case I saw it as necessary, and actually sitting down in it makes you feel a bit more welcome. I never noticed it before, but Youji actually has books in his room. I know that Aya reads a lot, but Youji usually doesn't (at least in front of us).  
  
"So you want to forget about this guy you're in love with, am I right?" I nod, unsure of what else I can really do in answer to that question. Of course I can't forget Omi altogether, I just want to know how I can stop being in love with him so we can go back to being friends even though it feels so good to be in love, it's for his sake, not mine, that I just forget I ever had feelings for him.  
  
"Then come clubbing with me," Youji said, "We drink, dance, and get laid. It's the best love remedy I know of. Well, either that or you just end up getting drunk in your own misery, but you're underage, anyway, so that shouldn't be a problem."  
  
Okay. Clubbing with Youji doesn't sound like such a terrible idea, actually. I may be in a moment of weakness, but maybe getting out and doing something will help me get my mind off Omi. There was only one problem. . .  
  
"I hope this is not some sick, twisted way to get me into going on a date with you." I asked skeptically.  
  
"No, way, Kenken," He answered, laughing, "I just think a night out would do you some good."  
  
"'No strings attatched?'"  
  
"What's it with you and these old pop songs?"  
  
It's easy to find myself laughing when I'm not thinking about Omi, and it's so easy to float away when I am. I know that if Omi and I get too close then it can only end in tragedy. I can't do that to him. I'd gladly have myself hurt, but that would hurt him as well. There's just no way to avoid this dangerous tie without forgetting about it, but something in Youji's voice has me convinced that he has something more planned then he lets on. I don't trust anyone who plays with dental floss. You may quote me.  
  
But either way I need to do this.  
  
I need to forget.  
  
And, damnnit, I need some Asprin.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Since this is my first Weiss Kreuz fanfiction, I hope that you experienced readers and writers in this section can give me some pointers so I can improve if you like the story, and even if you don't have anything to add, I really hope you all can give me some feedback so I know whether to continue it or not.  
  
Arigatou!! ^_^ 


	2. Dancing

Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's as simple as that.  
  
A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who left reviews. I hope this next chapter is what you hoped. I didn't really have a plan because I'm really disorganized, but because so many people wanted another chapter I tried to formulate one. Hope this works ::crosses fingers::  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
God I look hot.  
  
And I'm not just saying that either! . . .These clothes Youji gave me definitely help me play the part. I just hope that no one gets the wrong idea just because I'm wearing these tight leather pants. I'm not a slut. But what luck that we were the same size! Now that I think of it, Omi would look really good in leather pants. Ahh! No! Not thinking about Omi in that way! That's the reason I'm going in the first place! . . . But I'm actually a little nervous. I have a feeling the club Youji picked out isn't the kind I'm used to going to.  
  
. . . I can tell by the shirt he gave me to wear. Yick. It's even making the back of my chair look like a slut . . . okay, that didn't sound right. But seriously! I'm not wearing a black mesh shirt that practically reveals everything, and doesn't even come all the way down to the pants line. I tried it on, and THAT made me nervous.  
  
Why the hell does Youji even have a shirt like that? Okay, you know what? Spare me.  
  
I know that I don't usually go to clubs, but there are actually a couple good reasons I agreed to this. Number one: Forget about Omi, so that I don't go completely insane before this weekend is over. Number two: Show off these totally hot pants to as many people as I possibly can.  
  
"Hey there, sexy," Youji waltzed in, grinning, "Why don't you try on the shirt?"  
  
"I did."  
  
"And?"  
  
"It makes me look like a slut." I scowled.  
  
"Ah, Kenken," Youji sighed, leaning against the wall, "Everyone looks like that where we're going."  
  
"Well! Then I don't want to go!"  
  
"I bet it looks really good on you. . ." He teased, "Why don't you try it on again?"  
  
I sighed, "I guess that wouldn't hurt." So I put it on. Again. It looked the same to me. Youji whistled, and I turned sharply.  
  
"You're wearing that, Kenken. It looks too damn good for you not to." The flattery made me blush. Youji saw that and smiled as he turned from the room, "Come on, hurry up. Aya and Omi should be waiting for us downstairs."  
  
"Wait! . . . Omi? Aya?. . . Just hold on there a minute!" I stopped Youji from leaving.  
  
"Oh, yeah. I hope you don't mind," Youji smirked, "I thought we'd make this a group activity. Aya seemed a little less than enthusiastic, but he agreed to come along."  
  
"What about Omi? He's coming too?!" Youji suppressed a grin as he nodded.  
  
Shit!! I'm supposed to be forgetting about Omi, not going on a date with him!!! Okay, so we're not technically going on a date . . . which would actually be nice but . . . NO KEN! FOCUS!! Omi is your FRIEND!!  
  
. . . I know my feelings for him can't be helped, but our relationship can never be anything more than friends. My feelings are never going to go away, as Youji told me, and he would know. He's been holding onto love for more than any of us. And his remedy is just as he said . . . drinking, dancing, and getting laid. Somehow, I don't think that's worked very well for him, and so I have this eerie feeling it won't work for me either if Omi is the person I'm drinking, dancing and getting laid wi-WAIT! ARGH. That's not right at all. I'm just going clubbing with him. No big deal. I'm just . . .  
  
Well, shit.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Yep. That's definitely Aya giving me a 'look'. No, not the 'Aya-ice-glare- of-death' look, the 'hey-Ken-those-pants-are-tiiight' look. I'm scared. Heeeeelp meeeee.  
  
And, yes, my spirits are a little better ever since Youji and I went downstairs, because Aya said that Omi had somewhere to go and would be meeting up with us later.  
  
I so relieved. Man, I was really getting freaked-out back there, but I'm fine now.  
  
Mmm . . . but you know, in some twisted way I feel a little worse because I know it's because of me. I acted like a complete idiot earlier. It's not a surprise that Omi wouldn't want to come so long as I'm coming.  
  
Dinner was especially quiet without Omi's laughter. He finished quickly, said something briefly about the pancakes being delicious with a strained smile, and then just . . . disappeared. I'm really worried about him. I'm afraid that it's my fault. It's just that whenever he's sad I feel like it's my job to wipe that frown away. . . like I should just run up and put my arms around him, smiling as he's crying; telling him that it will all be okay. That would feel so right. And yet. . .  
  
It's eating away at me. I can almost feel his lips on mine; almost feel my fingers damp from wiping his tears and hair from his eyes. But I feel so awful for thinking these things. I have no right. . . no reason to look at Omi in that way. I know that I want to protect him. But how can I protect him if I can't even protect him from myself?  
  
Hopefully I can meet a nice guy and forget about Omi before we meet up with him later. I have time, right?  
  
I quickly took off my goggles and helmet, clutching my leather jacket closer to my mesh shirt, and got off my motorcycle, parking it in back next to Aya's car. I thought I'd take my bike jus' to give those two a little privacy, you know? Well, if you didn't know, then I guess you know now.  
  
Now that I think of it, it's taking them a while to get out of the car. . . hmmm. . . Okay, never mind, they're getting out now. Aww. Youji's blushing. That's so cute. I'll make a note to ask him about that later.  
  
"So, Ken? You're taking that jacket off at some point, I hope. . ." Youji called out as I walked over to meet them.  
  
"I'll think about it."  
  
"The entrance is over here. You ready?" he pointed to the alley by the side of the street with a wooden sign hanging above it. I nodded.  
  
Walking in was something else. It was crazy. Youji was right about the mesh shirt. I would still blend in quite nicely if I took off my jacket. Too bad that's not happening anytime soon. Oh, crap. Where are Youji and Aya? I lost them already. On second thought . . . they probably lost me. . . on purpose.  
  
Oh, well. I guess I'll head over to the bar. Youji's bound to turn up there sooner or later.  
  
"Ah! Another customer!" the girl server came over as I sat and winked, "What can I get for you?"  
  
"mm. . . I really shouldn't have anything. I've got a long night ahead of me." I answered, propping an elbow on the table and the adjoining hand on my head.  
  
"Is that so?" She said, smiling as he cleaned a glass absent-mindedly, "Ah. I suppose it's just as well. I mean, one too many and you'll fall asleep and wake up with twenty dollars in your underwear," she laughed openly, "Of course that only happened to me once."  
  
I chuckled nervously. I can't help it, "It's strange. You sure know how to cheer a guy up."  
  
"Hey, it comes with the job description." She waited a minute before she raised her eyebrows, gazing down at me with a mock pout, "So what's eating you?"  
  
"Oh, not much," I sighed, thinking about that last look Omi flashed me at dinner. He was so sad. I cringed. It's my fault, "Just friend trouble."  
  
"Ah, really? So it's not some pretty girl who's got you so down?" She took a closer look at my face, shrugging before waving around a cleaning cloth, "I could have sworn that's the look of heartache. I guess I'm getting rusty."  
  
"Yeah. . ." I decided not to say anything. I'm not in love with him. Okay, so I might be thinking a little about him, but it's just trouble between friends. I'm worried about him and his. . . mysterious disappearances, his distance from all of Weiss for these past few months. He's been the same, but. . . absent. It's just not normal to be home without the constant tapping of keys and clicking of the mouse from the basement.  
  
It was then that I felt eyes on me, and looked up to see the lady staring down at me in sympathy.  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your evening," I fingered the design on the corners of the counter.  
  
"It's Yuriko," she smiled, "And you haven't ruined anything. I just wish you wouldn't act so sad. Granted, I haven't been at this job very long, but I now serve about fifty customers every night, and you are the sourest sober person I have ever seen."  
  
"Yeah, I know," I sighed, "I should probably go dance."  
  
I looked up with surprise to the defiant 'clunk' of the last glass on the counter.  
  
"That's hardly enthusiastic enough. At least -look- like you're having fun!" She cringed, throwing her hands up into the air, as if to say that I was hopeless. I would have to agree. It surprised me when she reached for her coat, "Well, it's been a pleasure, Mr. . ."  
  
"Ken."  
  
"It's been a pleasure, Ken," she finished cleaning the counter with a quick wipe of a rag, ". . . but it just so happens my shift's over."  
  
I looked up at her in acknowledgement, and she heaved a fantastic sigh.  
  
"You are so cute," Yuriko looked at me in longing, "I hope that girl you're thinking about knows just how lucky she is."  
  
"I told you, I'm not. . ."  
  
". . . in love?" She finished my sentence, leaving me stunned as she grabbed her coat from underneath the counter and handed the ropes over to the next shift, "That's what they all say."  
  
I'm trying to think of something to say, but the words just won't come out. She's already gone. She flashed me one last smile before she left. That woman really would have danced with me. . . I should have asked her . . . but I didn't. Why? Well, I guess it's really beginning to sink in. Because . . . well, it scares me, but she's right. I, Hidaka Ken, am in love.  
  
God, that sounds odd. I don't think this has ever happened before. I don't know what I was waiting for to actually realize it. . . Maybe it was a bunch of cherry blossoms or roses in the background like in shoujo manga.  
  
It's definitely the most blatantly obvious things that miss me entirely. It feels so right, and so wrong, but maybe that's what love is. I'm in love! Not only am I in love, but I am in love with my best friend. And you know what? I accept that. . .  
  
Then why the hell am I in this club?  
  
This is just another measure of my stupidity. Yep. I'm just doomed to be an idiot. An idiot in a mesh shirt. . . thank God I have a jacket on.  
  
Wait. . . what is that music?  
  
I turned around, attracted by the familiar song. I know this is one of Omi's favorites. It's not really a club song, but this singer's rendition makes it really easy to dance to. Omi should be here. He really loves this song.  
  
I squinted into the crowd far off to see where the singer was singing his heart out. My heart skipped a beat.  
  
Wow. I can't even see that far, but he's . . . really cute. God, am I blushing? Maybe I can actually get over Omi after all. Just the way that he held the mike; and the shine of the spotlight against his forehead. He twisted the wire around his left hand and walked across the stage, and I found myself freezing like an obsessed fangirl. That is scary. I never really believed in love at first sight, but maybe this is what they mean.  
  
I pushed my way through the crowd of dancers and screamers; people who were clapping their hands to the music. Eventually, and after a great deal of maneuvering, I made it to about ten feet from the stage. It looks like I have some competition. Everyone seems to want to touch his hand or get up there on stage with him. . .  
  
. . . You know, it could just be me, but that guy looks really like Omi . . . with the exception of that belt choker necklace, the tight silver pants, loose black tank. . . and this is one of Omi's favorite songs.  
  
I know Omi likes to sing, but that's still not enough evidence to go on. I mean, there was that one time we were on a mission and he was on watch while I was going to execute the assassination. We always keep in touch through our headsets, and I remember he was humming to himself, but I don't think he knew that I heard, because a few minutes later he continued talking to me as if nothing had happened. The truth is I found it sort of calming.  
  
. . . And of course there was that other time I caught him singing in the shower. That was an accident! No I'm not a perv! I thought it was my turn to take a shower, so I just walked in. I don't think he heard the door open, but I admit I stood in the doorway a good five minutes listening. NOT WATCHING! Listening. Okay. . . so maybe I was watching a little. . .  
  
Geez.  
  
I looked again at the singer on the stage, shifting positions to get a better view through the crowd. That's really Omi up there.  
  
I froze. Wait. So that's why he was avoiding us? He said he'd meet up with us later because he was singing! Yay! It's not my fault! Well, at least his disappearances aren't my fault, but what about everything else?  
  
I shoved the nearest, tallest person I could find in front of me, who of course immediately moved so I was in sightline again. Must get away . . . can't jeopardize our friendship. Must. . .  
  
Shit. He's looking straight at me.  
  
'Nonono, Omi' I told myself, unable to tear my eyes away from the boy on stage who seemed to have temporarily been frozen in time, 'the song's still playing! Sing the song, damnnit.'  
  
"K- ken- kun?" My name rang through the microphones in an echo that baffled the entire club. And of course since Omi was looking at me, a good number of people were as well. The only people who seemed unmoved by this occurrence were the musicians themselves who kept playing without a care in the world, and thank God, too. I don't think I could stand the embarrassment if the entire place had their eyes on me.  
  
Suddenly Omi's bright blue eyes perked up as he began to sing again, his smile growing as he motioned for me to come closer to the stage. Why? I have no clue.  
  
Don't tell me he expects me to go up there with him. . . I backed away, ready to make a run for it, but put my heel down defiantly as I heard a voice from the back of the noisy club shout above the others. It appears our meeting had not gone unnoticed.  
  
"Whoo! You go Ken! Knock 'em dead!" Youji grinned and waved at me from across the club with his arm slung around Aya's shoulder. Aya looked less than enthusiastic, but doesn't he always?  
  
And then in some strange fit of madness, or perhaps it was just the sparkle in Omi's eyes, that despite the fact that we were best friends, I advanced to the stage. Omi grinned, and let out his hand. I took it, and of course, my foot slipped on the edge of the stage and sent me tumbling into the crowd.  
  
I came up cursing and rubbing my head, which hurt worse than hell. Great. Just great. I get a chance to dance with Omi and I can't do anything better than fall flat on my face. All of these thoughts were remedied, of course, by the laughter in Omi's words as I looked up at him. It wasn't actual laughing, of course, but by the tears in his eyes and that unbearably cute expression, I could tell he was trying terribly hard not to crack-up.  
  
This is embarrassing. And yet . . . strangely satisfying; but I suppose if you're going to be a clutz, you might as well do it right. Then again, I couldn't help but glance back and twitch in annoyance at Youji who isn't quite so conservative with his emotions, and happened to be laughing his ass off. Even Aya is smirking. That hurts.  
  
I need to be invisible.  
  
Better yet, I need some fresh air.  
  
Glancing once more back at the crowd, which seemed to have forgotten me, and Omi, who seemed to be too involved in the music to notice me slinking back, I headed for the door.  
  
It's really refreshing to step into crisp air when you've just been in a hot, sticky room full of people with body heat that really doesn't help the situation. Not to mention the sudden quiet, although traces of the bass guitar still hung in the air, it's still refreshing to feel the cold air that washes over you and almost through you; cleaning out cobwebs and recent memories that you wish could be forgotten.  
  
I only wish it were that easy.  
  
I just made a complete idiot out of myself in front of Omi. His laughter is comforting, but it stings at the same time. I looked back at the door once more and nearly jumped when I saw Omi emerge from it.  
  
"Ken-kun!" He ran up to me, worried, "Why are you going? What's wrong?" His voice cracked from the hoarseness of singing.  
  
"Omi? Aren't you singing?" I asked, just as surprised, if not more, than he was.  
  
"Yes, but I'm done for tonight. That was the last song. I'm so sorry you fell, I should have held onto your hand more tightly," Omi frowned.  
  
"No, it wasn't your fault," I smiled, "Hey, cheer up! I thought I'd end your performance with a big bang, you know. . .? But that was a little more literal that was necessary," I laughed lightly.  
  
"Come on, then," he surprised me by grabbing my hand, "I'm not letting go this time!"  
  
I looked into his eyes, and for once saw the friend that I had grown to love and held his hand tightly back. He felt the squeeze on his smaller hand and smiled; his eyes never leaving mine, before both of us headed back into the club.  
  
Everything was a blur as the music took me into a trance. I realized after a few minutes had passed that the figure I was dancing with was no mirage, it was Omi. I'm so happy that he wants me to have a good time so he's dancing with me to help me get more comfortable, but he has no clue what it's doing to me.  
  
This is seriously driving me insane. Why is he getting so close?  
  
I backed away a little, and Omi just inched closer until our noses were just a foot apart. Omi must see me as a really good friend if he's willing to dance like this with me, but he has no idea how much I'm sweating. Gods, it's so hot dancing, and the fact that the person I'm dancing with is making me nervous just makes me sweat even more. I seriously need to take off my jacket, but if I do that, then everyone will see that mesh shirt. This includes Omi. I cannot let him see that. It's Youji's. . . it's humiliating.  
  
But then again, Youji did say it looked 'damned good'. Aw, what the hell. . . I then slipped the jacket off my arms and tied it around my waist. It was probably just the lighting but I thought I saw Omi's cheeks flush red for just a second. I can't stop looking at him. He's just so incredibly cute dancing there, and his outfit is almost more than I can handle.  
  
Just as if he were dancing on stage, I felt people watching us, jealous of me for being with him. I tried to step away to show that we really weren't together, but Omi kept coming closer and closer with each dance step, until I gave in and let him wrap his arms around my neck . . . which I realized immediately was a terrible idea. My stomach tightened.  
  
Think happy thoughts . . . think happy thoughts. . . I stared up at the ceiling, trying to forget that my best friend just wrapped his arms around me. . . happy thoughts. . . happy thoughts. . . happy thoughts about me and Omi . . . no!. . . more happy thoughts. . .  
  
Refocusing my view on Omi from the ceiling once more, I saw a man behind him with blood red hair. He was smirking menacingly, and tapped the unsuspecting Omi on the shoulder. I felt my small friend jolt as he quickly removed his arms from around my neck.  
  
"May I cut in?" The red-haired man said, though I could only read his lips through the obnoxious music blasting through the place. Wait. This guy wasn't asking me to leave so he could dance with Omi. . . he was asking Omi to leave so he could dance with me! No way!  
  
Omi looked confused as I was suddenly swept away into the crowd. Let me assure you, I was no more surprised then he was. Then, the red-haired man started reaching around my waist, bringing me closer . . . well, needless to say I pushed away and ran for the crowd where I had lost Omi before I was grabbed by a hand from behind.  
  
"Where do you think you're going, gorgeous?" The man's red sunglasses on top of his head reflected the light, sending a stream of it into my eyes, causing me to withdraw my hand and shield my eyes upon instinct.  
  
"Away from you," I answered bitterly.  
  
"Hmm. . . I always like a good challenge. Especially with such a tasty mind like yours," The redhead smirked and I was officially creeped-out.  
  
"Let go!" I tore my arm away from his hand, and as I blinked in the action, he was gone. ". . . the hell?"  
  
I looked around frantically on all sides, but with no avail. That was definitely mastermind. . . but why would he be here? Why was he calling me 'gorgeous'? That's just scary. Could that have been a warning?  
  
"Ken-kun!?" I heard Omi call from the crowd as he broke through, "Ken-kun, what did Schwarz do to you?"  
  
"I honestly have no idea," I rubbed my head in thought, "But I think I'm definitely done with clubbing for tonight."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Big thanks to Jacques, IamVash1225, A Spell, Tainted Halo, KarotsaMused, s.h.i.r.o.i.k.e.t.s.u.e.k.i, elfin girl, Cathy Barton, Felflowne, Evil Cheshire Cat, Riisha, and Keitorin for leaving reviews! They made me so happy! I hope this chapter is up to standard!  
  
Thanks to everyone for reading! Comments, criticisms, or any feedback you may have are always appreciated. ^_^ 


	3. Mission

Disclaimer: Aya is red, Ken's goggles are blue, I don't own Weiss Kreuz, and neither do you.  
  
A/N: Yay! Next chapter! It's a transition mission . . . into the now existent plot! Enjoy. ::glomps reviewers:: I love you all!!!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The lonely streetlight flickered off, fooled by false daylight as an unwelcome hand shined a flashlight on the sensor. A smirk could be seen creeping across a half-lit face as the culprit secured his trick in place and slipped into the darkness provided by the forest surrounding the scene. There wasn't nearly enough light to see around the sharp turn in the slippery, snow-covered road.  
  
Light from a pair of foreseen headlights was the only source of sight before two daggers thrown from the shadows shattered them. The screech of tires sounded in the silence of the night, followed by the crash and resounding 'beep' of a broken horn. There was laughter of one, and four figures stepped from the darkness.  
  
The one laughing took back his light and the streetlight flickered on, revealing four shadows and the figures they belonged to standing in the road. New snow began to drift around them.  
  
"Another one down," the redhead twirled the flashlight in hand, catching it gracefully in a fist and staring snakelike into the darkness, ". . . you know I'd do anything for the one I love."  
  
The tallest stepped forward, now, "Now, now, don't be selfish," he pushed in his glasses, "You're not the only one with a reason for doing this. I think all of us want a piece of Weiss."  
  
The man with the eyepatch licked his dagger in agreement.  
  
Schuldig turned calmly, "But we'll have them find us separately. Suspicion travels in numbers, as do flies."  
  
The smallest huffed, speaking up, arms still crossed, "Yes, but they all are Weiss. Does it matter who we individually target?"  
  
The redhead looked back at the young one, smirking slightly, "No, not particularly. Just leave Siberian to me."  
  
"But you WILL take care of him," Crawford narrowed his eyes underneath thin glasses at the disobedient member, both in questioning and threat.  
  
"Oh, I'll take care of him, alright," Schuldig smirked (again), retreating back whence he came with a huffy cloud of white, frost-tipped air, so he wasn't sure if anyone heard his next statement, "But I do it MY way."  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
"No! Right! He's gonna- the right, damnnit!" I slumped back in the couch, sighing and grabbing a handful of popcorn, popping a kernel into my mouth, "Idiot. You should have gone to the right."  
  
"Ken-kun. You're doing it again." Omi said, looking over his shoulder at me.  
  
"What?" I asked, thoroughly confused.  
  
"Talking to the T.V. . ."  
  
". . . But he should have gone to the right!" I protested.  
  
"Hmm?" He looked closer at the television screen, "Isn't that last week's soccer game?"  
  
"Yeah! How'd you know? I taped it." I smiled, he sweat-dropped. It was the cutest thing, but I guess you had to be there, "It's certainly too cold to be outside in this blizzard. Did you see that snow? It's coming down like crazy . . . but it's alright. . ."  
  
He watched me as I went up to get the tape from the VCR, and opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off, ". . . I can watch it later."  
  
He averted his eyes sorrowfully to the side, almost as if he was disappointed that I wasn't watching it anymore.  
  
"What's wrong?" I asked, walking over to Omi instead of leaving the room, "Is it something I did?"  
  
"Well, no, I mean, thank you! It's just. . ." He looked up at me with this hopeful look in his eyes and I think I had to catch my breath, almost missing what he had to say next, "Would you mind staying in here?"  
  
I flushed. Omi actually asked me if I would stay with him. . . Me! I know it's probably just because he doesn't like being alone. If Aya or Youji had been in the room he probably would have asked the same of them, but still, it seems too many coincidences, don't you think?  
  
I mean, at the club we seemed to have a lot of fun, and although I was pretty zoned out during the entire thing because of all my emotions began to take the best of me, Omi did ask me to dance . . . and he did smile . . . and he did put his arms around my neck. That was just a friendly thing to do, right? And when mastermind pulled me away (man, that was freaky) Omi made a face. Whether it was shock, fear, or jealousy I didn't have the time to figure out, but he definitely made a face. Could it be . . . nah. I'm just imagining things. . . I must really be an idiot to have thought that Omi asking if I could stay in here suggested anything.  
  
Still, I was planning on staying in here, anyway. I enjoy just being by him. On other occasions, I would usually just leave because I was frightened of what I felt, but now I'm comfortable with it, and so long as I can see him, nothing else matters.  
  
"No problem," I said, "I like being with yo-" I choked. Shit, "I-I mean I have . . . work - that I could do here." Smooth, Ken. Real smooth. What the hell? What was I talking about? Work? The only work any of us have is either at the Koneko, (which is closed today due to Youji's hangover and Aya's motherly instinct. Go figure . . . besides the fact that the blizzard isn't really doing the flowers a favor), and our assassin work, (but we haven't had a mission in weeks).  
  
"Hmm" Omi asked, puzzled, and frowning. He can always tell when I'm lying.  
  
"I erm. . ."  
  
"I'm sorry, you really don't have to stay here," he turned back to his papers, looking a little hurt.  
  
"No! That's not it at all! I really want to stay!" if all else fails, tell the truth, "I enjoy your company!"  
  
He was taken aback at my openness, and a smiling blush crossed his cheeks, "Thanks. I- I enjoy your company too."  
  
He went back to his work, a slight smile on his face (though I don't know why, it made me happy to see). I think that's as close to a love confession as I'll really ever come. I just don't have the guts for this type of thing. I'm such a wimp, but I have to admit, even though I understand it's only in friendship, hearing Omi say that he enjoys my company made me smile too.  
  
"Hey! Kenken! Omiitchi!" we both looked up to hear Youji hollering from upstairs as he burst open the basement door, "Our favorite pair of legs is here."  
  
"Manx!?" Omi exclaimed in disbelief, though I was just as surprised. A new mission is the last thing I need right now. Youji and Manx walked down the stairs.  
  
I was about to look around for our favorite redhead to see if someone needed to go get him from upstairs, but Aya seemed to mysteriously have appeared leaning against the wall. That's really odd. He wasn't there a second ago. . . Youji closed the door and collapsed on the couch.  
  
"Weiss," She paused, looking at each one of us to make sure we all were present, "You have a mission."  
  
"So what else is new- Owww!" Youji jabbed me in the stomach with his elbow. Manx sighed slightly, a bit amused (I can tell), and handed out the mission write-up and a booming voice sounded as several images appeared on the screen.  
  
"Weiss; you have a new mission. Several strange car accidents have occurred near the next town. The consistency of the incidents and the pattern in which they were executed suggest that they were no accident. The victims seem unplanned, but their have been no fatalities. Even so, if they continue, there is a possibility. Your mission is to find these evil beasts. I would like you to wait for further instruction to deny them their tomorrows. Investigation is our objective." The screen dimmed off.  
  
Manx stepped forward.  
  
"For the purposes of this assignment, Persia has seen to it that you will NOT be staying in the cabin you once used as a safehouse in another mission, but in a larger facility which will be more convenient due to the location of the crimes, and so that you blend in better with the crowd and will not be held in suspicion," she paused, looking at each of us individually as we waited for the line we knew was coming, "Are you all in?"  
  
We all looked at each other. This is a strange mission. Just investigation, huh? I would have shrugged but everyone else seemed so damn serious about it. It's a free vacation! I tried my hardest stifling excitement. I love skiing.  
  
"Wait," Youji stopped her, "It's just investigation, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"Free vacation." Youji grinned. hah. You see, I'm not the only one, "But you don't really need all of us for this assignment, do you?" Manx looked at him thoughtfully.  
  
All three of us looked at Youji in amazement. What was he implying? Omi opened his mouth a little to say something, looking incredulously. I'm not sure how I look, but I'm really confused. I actually think Aya's raising an eyebrow. Now, that's an accomplishment.  
  
"I was just thinking about the shop. We're getting a new shipment of flowers in tomorrow, and someone has to make sure that they don't freeze out there in the snow." Youji looked from Manx to Aya, "Isn't that right?"  
  
There were a few minutes of silence as unspoken words passed between Aya and Youji. I don't know if they're telepathic or what, but slowly Aya's raised eyebrow returned to its normal position as he perhaps came to realize something.  
  
"I agree." He said finally, turning to Manx, "I'll stay here to help with the flowers as well."  
  
We all widened our eyes in amazement. This wasn't like Youji. Not like him AT ALL to WANT to work. It was even stranger that Aya didn't find this the least bit strange after their little staring competition.  
  
This isn't about the flowers. The flower order could be cancelled . . . so then why are they using that as a cover? Why are they leaving me in the dark here? Is this mission some sort of dirty work that I don't know about? I looked over at Omi, who seemed to think his shoes were very interesting at the moment.  
  
Wait, but if they're not going then. . .  
  
"Fine, then," Manx turned to Omi and me, "I trust that you two will do an excellent job. I'll be coming up to the resort to check on you in one week." She handed me an envelope, "The reservation is under 'Fujimiya', so one of you will have to take on that name for the time being."  
  
We both looked at her like deer hit by headlights, and I'm sure I was blushing because my face turned hot all of a sudden.  
  
One week alone with Omi. It was almost too much to take in. If he makes me feel the same way he made me feel last night. . . I mean, it's hard enough as it is to keep my distance when we're living in the same house . . . but spending every minute of an entire week. . . I mean, I don't have that much self control! I don't think it's humanly possible.  
  
But it has to be. I don't want to lose my friendship with him. That's what scares me the most.  
  
"Good luck." And with that, she ascended the stairs and left. The sound of the shutting of the door echoed in my ears for what seemed like minutes. I hope she really meant it because I'm going to really need as much luck as I can get. . . If Omi finds out how I really feel about him it's all over.  
  
He'll never look at me again.  
  
"I. . ." I picked up my US vs France tape shakily, ". . . I guess I'll go pack."  
  
Youji winked at me as I was leaving. 'I was just thinking about the shop' my ass.  
  
Remind me to wring his neck later.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
As it turns out Manx had given us four two-way train tickets in the envelope along with the directions to the ski resort and a check to pay for the room. I pawned Aya and Youji's for souvenir money before we got into the train car.  
  
Omi's hardly said a thing since we got on and I feel terrible. I really blew up in Youji's face after our meeting with Manx. I skipped dinner and came into his room afterwards. He kept saying that he was sorry and he didn't know it would make me this angry, so I eventually calmed down and sat down with him to eat dinner. He's a real good friend to still be kind to me after I said all those horrible things. . . I just have a horrible temper, and I love Omi so much I don't want anything to change between us.  
  
. . . But I have a feeling Omi might have heard me getting mad at Youji and that's why he's not talking to me. I might have given the impression that I didn't want to go because of him. Oh, God, I hope that's not what he thinks.  
  
"Omi?" I turned to him. He was staring out the window, and I could see his reflection against the white blur of snow we passed by. He picked his chin up off his hand and his blue eyes looked quizzically at me.  
  
"It's. . . I mean, I'm sorry about earlier. I really am glad that Aya and Youji decided to stay home . . . L-Let's have fun this week, ne?" I said finally, smiling and swallowing my fears. Omi looked back at me, a little surprised at my apology, but he smiled and went back to looking out the window.  
  
I suppose that was better than words. I don't know of anything that he could have said that would have made me feel better than that smile just did. He's so pure. . . untouchable. I don't deserve him. I. . . I. . .  
  
That was the last thing I had time to think before I felt his head on my shoulder. I stiffened instinctively, and it took me awhile before I was able to choke out a single word.  
  
"Omi, what are you. . .?" I looked closer and nearly melted.  
  
He's asleep. Do you have any idea how cute Omi is when he's asleep? There were a couple times I found him asleep at his computer. I smiled. He can really sleep anywhere, can't he? He must have been really tired, though. Maybe that's why he wasn't talking to me. . .  
  
God he's adorable, but I can't just leave him like this. Maybe if I just. . .  
  
I took my sweater from my waist and placed it on the side of the train where Omi should have laid his head and shifted a bit to allow him space to tilt over to the other side. All that resulted in was a bit of a whiny noise and the adamant clinging of a chibi, sleeping Omi to my left arm. I shrunk as a train guard passing our seat gave me the coined 'disapproving- teacher-glare'.  
  
"Your tickets please," he held out a hole-puncher. I know these guys are supposed to just be doing their job, but that looks really intimidating to me. I mean, one false move, they could jab the thing in your stomach and that'd hurt like hell.  
  
He 'ahemed'. Oh, right; the tickets. I shuffled through my pockets. Tickets. . . tickets. . . where are you?. . . tickets. . . ah! No, that's gum. Tickets. . . tickets. . . There we go!  
  
I pulled out the two crumpled tickets from my pocket and handed them to the man. He flattened them out and then punched them irritably, staring at me the whole time as if it were my face he was punching instead of those tickets. Scary.  
  
"Thanks," I mumbled as he placed the stubs in the top of the seat to show we had been paid for. Omi squeezed my arm tighter. He really doesn't look this strong, but I think he's cutting off my circulation.  
  
Not that I mind.  
  
It was about ten more minutes before the trained pulled to a stop. The voice on the announcements told us to get off because it was their final destination, which makes sense. There isn't much beyond these mountains, and since they get a lot of snow it must be pretty hard to get by on the tracks up here.  
  
I watched as the people all left through the doors as I shook Omi gently. He opened his eyes slowly.  
  
"Omi," I exclaimed, happy to see he was awake, "we're here."  
  
"Aaa," He yawned and was about to put his head back on my shoulder when he realized the position he was in and widened his eyes, removing his arms from me as if I were a hot iron.  
  
"Come on," I said, missing his expression entirely, "we've got a ways to go before we can go to sleep just yet, you know."  
  
"Y-yeah," Omi said, regaining his composure and fumbling through his pockets to find the directions, ". . . The ski resort is only a few miles away. We can take a taxi."  
  
I nodded. I think he's a little shaken. It must be because he's just woken up. . .  
  
We arrived at the ski lodge around eleven, so it only took twenty minutes in the taxi, but they charged me a fortune. The resort was huge. Well, not story-wise, but it still looked like a city hotel in the middle of the mountains. We walked in a little disoriented, but we found the desk straight away.  
  
"Yes? May I help you?" The desk clerk came up to the counter, taking off her reading glasses to see us better.  
  
"We have a reservation for one week. . ." I said first, watching her nod and type in a command on her computer. "'Fujimiya'" I told her and handed her the check Manx had given us from Persia. . . although I couldn't help but notice it was signed 'Takatori Shuichi' (whoever the heck he is). I hope that Persia hasn't been stealing money from other people's accounts, though I'd have to say I wouldn't be surprised, seeing as this person is a Takatori.  
  
I watched as the clerk go over to the back of the desk area to retrieve a key from its nail. She came up to the front and handed it to me.  
  
"Here you are." She said, "Room 29. I'll cut the price, so don't worry, you're only paying for the one room."  
  
"W-wait. Only one room?" She turned back to us.  
  
"Yes. The other half of your party called in just a little while ago, actually. They said that only one room would be necessary, so don't worry. I have it all taken care of." She smiled, "Enjoy your stay!"  
  
I looked at her blankly. . . "Youji called to what?!"  
  
"Thank you!" Omi answered cheerfully. Well, I guess since Omi's happy I won't let it get to me. He's my friend. We've shared rooms before . . . even though somehow this feels different.  
  
I picked up my bag and offered to take Omi's, but he insisted on taking it himself, though he seemed grateful for the offer. I just can't stand how cute he is. It's driving me crazy . . . (eheh. It's a good thing Youji didn't hear that one.)  
  
Somehow, I thought as I turned the key, this is going to turn out alright. We'll investigate the case, meet up with Manx, and then it'll be over; simple.  
  
I paled as I opened the door . . . or it would be if there was more than one bed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N:  
  
Transitive property of Fanfic authors: reviews= inspiration, inspiration= more story, reviews= more story. Enough said. ^^ 


	4. Bugged

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz . . . the closest I have ever been is to owning the dream in which I dreamt I was playing soccer with Ken. I don't own Tom from Shenmue either, and I'm not particularly sure I'd want to.  
  
A/N: For those of you who are feeling yaoi deprived, I have added some Aya/Youji. For those of you who don't like that pairing, I'm sorry ::bows:: but please give this chapter a chance. I find that they are a little like Heero/Duo, which makes them so fun to write because I have experience there, but it also makes them a little OOC . . . and, of course, once again, I warn you of more Ken/Omi shounen ai. Of course, if you have gotten this far, I doubt you disapprove ^^  
  
Once again I must thank all my reviewers because you are all so wonderful!! Thank you so much for the inspiration!! ::hugs::  
  
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I pulled the covers farther over my head, creating a new meaning to 'the blob' . . . It is now 'the unrecognizably human blob wrapped in a hotel comforter'.  
  
I wish I could breathe.  
  
"Ken-kun?" Omi's muffled voice drifted through the quilted cover. "Are you SURE you're okay sleeping on the floor?"  
  
"Yeah," I answered, making the circular blob evolve into something more oblong and letting out a positively miserable sigh.  
  
"I mean, it's really fine if we share, I promise I don't take up that much room." Omi tried again.  
  
"No, it's not that," I answered, "I just- I mean I sometimes kick in my sleep, so I think you should sleep there. It's safer. I've slept on the floor before, so I'm really fine."  
  
Wow. That excuse was actually credible . . . and not entirely untrue . . . but it still drives me insane that as much as I want to, I really can't sleep in the same bed as him. I would end up doing something stupid like- like kissing him, o-or putting my arms around him, and he'd obviously push me away and probably never speak to me again. That would seriously be suicide; suicide of the heart. And we're not talking about a clean cut. That would be complete and utter mutilation in pain beyond imagination. That's what it would be like to lose Omi.  
  
"Well, okay, then." I heard him say wistfully, "I'm turning off the light." I didn't answer; merely watched as all light that was able to seep through the insides of the covers vanished with a 'click' from the outside.  
  
It must have been fifteen minutes I lay there, taking off the cover every once and a while to freshen my oxygen supply, which grows terribly scarce under covers after awhile, you know?  
  
I usually go right to sleep, but I can't help thinking about Omi. I suppose that just -looking- wouldn't hurt, right?  
  
I courageously lifted the cover from my eyes and looked around the room that was coated in dark and read like a black and white movie. A streak of gray ran through the room from the window and onto the bed where Omi lay, content in his dreams. He was curled only slightly, but you could see his chest rise and fall. His mouth opened as if he was snoring, but no sound came out. He hugged his pillow closer.  
  
He's so cute. Did I mention that yet? I just feel my heart pound faster, and I feel like someone needs to catch me as I float closer to the ground. I would give anything besides hell on earth to just be able to put my arms around him right now. With Omi sleeping, there is complete peace within my world.  
  
And then there was fuzz.  
  
Yes that's definitely the sound of fuzz. Electronic fuzz . . . the static you get when you're on the receiving end of a cellular that's going out of range. That's really strange. I'm sure Omi and I haven't touched the headsets we brought, so there's no way one of them could be on.  
  
I looked around the room as I heard it again, trying to pinpoint its location.  
  
Could this room be bugged?! No. That's impossible. Only highly skilled infiltrators could break into this big a facility without being caught. I don't even think that Schwarz could have done that. Their tactics are more like . . . destroy and devastate, not study your enemy and strategize. Well, except Schuldig, but a building is different from the human mind.  
  
Where the hell is that coming from?  
  
I got up and headed towards the dresser. It sounded like it was coming from the inside of the drawer. I opened it cautiously. I knew it! A communication device! The room is bugged . . . That complicates things.  
  
I held the small, black electronic device and cringed. It HAS to be our enemy; and that enemy can't be Schwarz. They've found us out already. I'll have to tell Omi, but only after he's woken up and we've left the room, or if I figure out how to disable it. They're listening to my footsteps even at this very moment . . . now how to immobilize it. . . Omi's better at this than I am . . .  
  
I turned the device over, and froze.  
  
Taped to the back where the batteries were held was a small piece of paper, which read, 'property of Youji Kudou' followed by several hearts.  
  
"You~~. . ."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
". . . PERVERT~~!!!" Ken's angry voice boomed through the speaker on the other end before there was a 'beep' and all connection was lost.  
  
It caught both of them by surprise.  
  
"Awww. . . I was expecting that to work for at least one more night." Youji grinned, "Ne, Aya?"  
  
The red-haired man flipped the page on his newspaper, as he was reading in bed, only half-listening to Youji as he had been the entire drive to here. They left shortly after Ken and Omi had left. Aya sighed. This was all Youji's idea. It wasn't that he didn't want Ken and Omi to get together, because he certainly wanted the best for his teammates . . . no, he wanted them to be happy because they were his -friends-. However, he would never have concocted this and actually agreed; had it not been Youji who edged him into it. He knew this was going to happen from the moment Youji declined the mission, but would he have thought of it? Not in a million years.  
  
That's perhaps, Aya mused, why he found Youji so amusing and . . . attractive. The man was everything he wanted to be. Well, with the exception of some things. . .  
  
"I tend to agree with Ken," Aya announced stoically. Youji glared.  
  
"You're cruel," he let the phrase trail off and hang in the air; giving the prospect a moment's thought, and later rejection, as he put away his spying materials that had relied on the sound device. In an afterthought, he turned around to look at Aya, "Hey, but they didn't find the camera on the shower curtain yet! Think we'll get some shower action?"  
  
"And -you're- worse than the fangirls," the silent man half-smiled.  
  
"Ouch, Aya. That's really harsh," Youji joked, but he meant what he said, "I'm just trying to help out a couple friends. How can I do that if I don't know how far they've gone?"  
  
"If what you say is right, then it's only a matter of time before they find out, anyway." Aya raised an eyebrow as Youji said nothing, "Why did we need to come here?"  
  
"Well you never know," Youji experimented, "Ken's too afraid of losing Omi altogether to confess anything, and Omi's way too shy and unsure of his feelings even though he's a terrible flirt. They need us to help them out a little from the shadows. Just because Ken found the device doesn't mean that he knows we're here, in the hotel. For all he knows we're still at home watching the shop . . . listening to what I THOUGHT they would be doing at night. . ." The blond pouted.  
  
". . . but those only have a two-mile radius," Aya pointed to the speaker.  
  
". . . but Ken doesn't know that." Youji smiled.  
  
"He's not that much of an idiot."  
  
"Wanna bet?"  
  
A couple crickets sounded in the background.  
  
"I'm afraid you're mistaken. Ken's far from being an idiot, but he's dense enough sometimes to seem like one," Aya resumed reading.  
  
"Well, that's true, but he still might not make the connection," Youji chucked slightly as he got up. He was done packing up the now useless equipment, but keeping the plug connected to the video camera wiring into the television. He walked back over to the bed and crawled under the covers, where Aya had already become comfortable against the headboard, reading. The red-haired man waited a second before putting his book and his glasses down.  
  
"You know what this means, don't you?" Aya moved in closer, so that his body was almost against the others and their noses were just touching.  
  
"e?" Youji looked to his side, surprised at the expression his boyfriend gave him; he almost backed away, feeling a nosebleed coming on. There are so many answers to that question. They stayed there in a very intimate position for a couple of seconds.  
  
"One of us is going to have to sleep on the floor," Aya actually smiled at Youji's expression. His gullibility was an endless form of entertainment. "Just kidding," Aya said, catching his lips gently as he turned off the light.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Pancakes: you know there are many ways to look at them, if you think about it.  
  
I fiddled with my untouched breakfast, bringing a bite into my fork and twirling it before my eyes, second arm connecting the table to my chin. Looking past it I could see Omi eating his own plate of pancakes.  
  
I think. . . that Omi would be a strawberry pancake. He's really sweet and when he blushes he turns ruby red as a strawberry. Come to think of it, I like my pancakes most with strawberries. Omi likes chocolate chip. I guess that's because chocolate is sweet. He told me he likes sweet things . . . But chocolate can be bitter also, if it's dark. Chocolate has so many shades and not everyone likes all of them.  
  
But I think people should give all of chocolate a chance. I mean, I'm sure it doesn't mean to be so . . . varied, and bitter sometimes, it just kind of . . . happened that way. A little bit like me. . .  
  
Come to think of it, strawberries and chocolate taste really good together!! I wonder if Omi thinks so, too. What about Omi with chocolate? Yummm . . . wait!. . . NO! I'm not listening to my perverted mind. Not liiiisteniiiing~~!  
  
Well, speaking of perverts, I can't believe that Youji actually thought that something would happen between me and Omi . . . That I would do something to him! Not that it necessarily would involve chocolate, but we're talking about ME here. Me! Why would I rape my best friend? WHY?! There is no way I would ever do anything like that! Okay, so he figured out the guy I like is Omi and he also set it up so that we would have to go on a vacation together . . . but he didn't have to go planting things around so if I ever did something (Which I WON'T!) that he would be the first to know. I obviously will NOT tell Omi. . . I mean, if I told Omi that, he would wonder why Youji would find any interest in bugging the room. Then, he might ask me and I would probably choke, give him a weak excuse, and he'd mangle the truth out of me. It's not like I can just waltz up to him and say 'Omi, I want you, and Youji thought there would be some action if we shared a room'. I promised myself that I wouldn't get mad at Youji again but after this . . . after this I . . . I mean I can't believe he would. . .  
  
"Uh, Ken-kun?" Omi asked politely, pointing to my fork arm, which was still raised, "Are you going to eat anything?" my eyes turned to dots again and Omi sighed, "you've been acting so strange ever since we got here, and now you're not even eating. What's wrong? You should tell me now before it begins to affect our mission."  
  
I looked at my plate, then to my friend. Okay, Omi is NOT a strawberry pancake.  
  
"Ken-kun!?!" Omi raised his voice, a little annoyed, now. I smirked as a thought came into my head.  
  
Or maybe . . . he IS. . .  
  
"I was just thinking," I answered, smiling, and putting both hands on my chin teasing in direct thought, "You look cute." Omi's cheeks blushed in brilliant red.  
  
Yes, he's definitely strawberry.  
  
Wait? What did I just say? Oh my friggin' God! I just said Omi is cute?!?! Out loud!? TO HIS FACE!?!! Breathe, Ken, breathe. NOOO! Breathing . . . bad. Thor, God of thunder, bring thy wrath upon me now!! . . . . . . . Quick before he says anything~!  
  
"S-Stop kidding around Ken-kun," Omi's smiling blush turned a darker shade.  
  
"heh. heh," I choked, bringing my arm up to rub the back of my head nervously, flashing a concealing grin at the floor and kicking myself mentally, "Yeah, that's me. Sorry about that. Pretty bad joke, huh?"  
  
Damn. I can't even look him in the eyes.  
  
"So s- should we get started on the mission?" Omi asked, returning to his usual self, smiling and ready for work. There's no way I could help but agree.  
  
"That's a good idea," I said weakly, glancing over, almost through Omi to the other side of the room. That's. . .  
  
That's. . . red.  
  
I looked harder.  
  
No, it couldn't be! Could it . . .?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Aya!! You're giving us away!" Youji yelled in a whisper as he pushed Aya's head down among the leaves of the potted plant near the entrance of the lounge; their present hiding spot. "Your hair is just too colorful! It's ruining everything!"  
  
Aya glared at his partner in crime at the mention of his hair as Youji brought the binoculars back to his eyes and ducked beneath the leaves. Positioning the binoculars just so that they would not attract any attention from the side which they were aimed at, Youji lifted a leaf that was blocking his view.  
  
"Ah. There they are. The happy couple," Youji smirked, happy that Ken had stopped looking in their direction, "Both of them were blushing earlier so that's a good sign."  
  
"No. That was a -normal- sign," Aya disagreed, "They always do that when they're alone together."  
  
"Do I detect a sense of humor, Aya?" Youji raised an eyebrow, received a glare, and smiled at the silent one's reaction. His comment was true, of course. Ken and Omi always were blushing at each other. Omi looked as ripe as a tomato almost the entire time Ken was around. Youji and Aya figured that Ken thought Omi had always looked that way, which is why he never realized that. But then again, Ken doesn't realize a lot of things, so you never know. Ken blushed every once and awhile, but Omi was too busy fiddling with his hands or the ends of his sweater to ever notice anything unusual.  
  
Youji, still absorbed in the scene unfolding before him, shoved Aya's binoculars into his hands, telling him that something was up. Aya obliged, sinking to a good spying position and putting the ends to his eyes.  
  
Well, something was wrong, alright. Omi had left, and Ken was presently trying to figure out how exactly to make a napkin into a paper crane. This wasn't good.  
  
"What the hell just happened?" Youji hissed, "Ken blew it. I just know he did, because he's sitting there like an idiot." A few seconds of silence passed, "Aya?! What do we do?!"  
  
"Go home?" Aya suggested calmly and quite seriously.  
  
"No! We've got to get them back together somehow! This whole week will be ruined if we don't do something!" Youji leaned against the plant pot and propped his chin on his knuckles in thought.  
  
"It might be good that they're apart for a little while. It's clear both of them are stressed. Maybe Ken didn't do anything. Maybe Omi just had to leave to do some investigation. Investigation is not done in pairs. There is too much risk for information leaks." Aya suggested. Youji looked at him happily.  
  
"Yeah you're probably right," he got up, brushing dead leaves from the indoor plant out of his hair, "So what do you want to do?"  
  
". . . Ken's still playing with his napkin. Should we. . .?"  
  
"No. He'll get over himself; besides, we're not supposed to be here, so let's go grab some lunch. I think there's a guy selling hot dogs over there," Youji pointed to the corner of the room where a Jamaican guy with dreadlocks kept calling everyone 'Ryo' and asking them if they wanted any hot dogs. (1)  
  
Aya sighed. There's no use arguing with someone who won't listen. Somehow he had a bad feeling about leaving Ken alone, but then again, nothing could really happen in such a public place. So with that logic, he followed Youji away, careful not to stand or let himself be seen until they were far into the safety of the hall.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Omi said he had to go to the scene of one of the crimes to see if he could gather any information. I offered to go with him, but I suppose it's just as well that he declined. He doesn't want to be near me, so why should I force him to? He told me I should do some research around here, so I guess I should go ask some people if they've seen anything suspicious. I fiddled let go of my napkin as I sat up, defeated.  
  
*Hello Siberian* The voice echoed through my mind and practically smirked as it did so.  
  
What IS that? No, I'm not hearing voices. It's seriously there! That has to be mastermind! But what is he doing in my head?! That's his specialty. Great. First Youji, now this?! Aside from the issue of a tremendous infringement of my personal privacy, I'm pretty sure that this is really not a good thing.  
  
'No,' I answered, irritated. Of course, all things that go around come around. There was tremendous laughter in my mind.  
  
*That's what I like about you* the voice said between mental chuckles, *But I'm afraid I have only come about business*  
  
'Business?' That doesn't sound good.  
  
*Yes; in regards to your little friend, Bombay.*  
  
I became angered at the tone he used when he spoke about Omi. 'What is it?'  
  
*Oh? A bit snappy, are we? I suppose it's just as well. I do propose an honest game, though I don't know if you'll like it very much.* I waited patiently as the demon paused, *You see, I like you, Siberian. However . . . there is a very pesky obstacle in my path.*  
  
This came as a bit of a shock. I had the feeling that mastermind- rather, Schuldig, liked me ever since the club, but I didn't know he was serious. Apparently he is, because he's talking about Omi. He's going to do something to Omi. I need to save him before any more of this is unraveled and Schuldig's knowledge is spread. At all costs I must not let Omi find out my feelings for him.  
  
*Don't think I can't read your thoughts* the voice said cunningly, *so that's what you want. Don't let me stop you. I won't ruin your precious friendship, but I might just have to kill one of you.*  
  
My thoughts were angry, 'we're Weiss, you forget. You'll have to kill all of us in order to get through even one of us'.  
  
*Oh! But I already have that taken care of* he said cunningly, and I could almost see the smirk draw across his face, *as we speak your friends are being confronted as well. I have told them to hold off until I give the mental command.*  
  
'Bastard' my thoughts hissed.  
  
*Tisk. Tisk. You shouldn't foul mouth anyone who could kill your friends with a simple command. Precious little Bombay hasn't even realized that Berserker has been following him all the way to the accident site. When he gets there all I have to do is give the command. Your friend is unarmed, right?*  
  
'Then why don't you kill me?' I asked, ignoring his last question. That was to Omi's advantage. Aya might not always carry his sword, and I might not always have my bugnuks, but Omi always has his darts just as Youji has wire. And damn, he just read my thoughts again, didn't he?  
  
*Thank you very much, Siberian. I think that information will become very useful. In the meantime, why don't you consider this? I will call off all attacks, which have the potential to injure or kill one of your friends, if you agree to go out with me tonight.*  
  
I froze.  
  
The last thing I want to do is hurt Omi, and I'm being given a choice. As much as I would loathe the idea. . . that should not even be taken into account right now. I trust they can take care of themselves, right? What is a team without trust? But if I can save them by just going out for an hour or two. . . with a complete stranger. . . who might take advantage of me. . . I should do that for them, right? It seems like the right thing to do, however it does seem cowardly . . . but it could be argued either way. Wait? Why do I have to listen to this guy?! Why don't I just punch his lights out- oh, right, he's not really here, he's just in my mind. . . plus the fact that I'm unarmed and he probably has a gun or something. This is a really bad time to be caught alone.  
  
I began to walk.  
  
*If you take one more step I withdraw my offer. You're not answering my question* The voice said slyly.  
  
I had already made my decision . . . and kept walking.  
  
*Ah, my friend. I have tried to play fair, but now all rules are off. Love is just the same as war and I'm afraid you have made one fatal mistake. Omi will die.*  
  
I cringed as I kept on walking, the voice growing distant with each step. I trust Omi. Omi will be fine. He's overcome so many obstacles, and berserker's not so bad when you get to know him. . . and I really am scared about Omi. I'm deathly afraid, actually, but it would be silly to accept Schuldig's invitation when the same situation will only arise again, and it would also mean that I do not trust Omi as a member of Weiss.  
  
I do trust him. I would trust him with my life, so why can't I trust him with his own. True, I know something that he does not, but I know him and I know his skills. Schuldig specializes in manipulation. I will not be manipulated into mistrust of my own best friend's skills as an assassin.  
  
It's alright, I'll just keep walking calmly out of the building and go to where Omi is. I'm sure that Aya and Youji will be fine because they're back home with Manx and Persia and the shop. They have all the materials at their fingertips. It's foolish for Schwarz to attack, there. However, in Omi's case . . .  
  
*Good, you're afraid. That's very good indeed. Your fears will only turn against you in the end, you know,* the voice faded into almost nothingness, *In fact, they have from the beginning.*  
  
I had already burst through the hotel doors in half of a run, unable to maintain a calm and reserved pace. Letting the burst of wind wash over me I stumbled into the snow. It isn't far to the place Omi headed. It's not that I'm worried for his life, but I feel that I need to be there for him. There's only one thing to do now . . . just keep running.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
(1) For all you fans of the video game Shenmue, I present Tom the hot dog guy. This reference is in honor of him.  
  
A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter sucks, but I couldn't figure out how else to weave in this plot . . . And I would really love a review if you have time to write one! They help me so much.  
  
Thank you so much for reading!! 


	5. Happy Apple

Disclaimer: Twinkle, twinkle little Weiss. Killing in the dead of night. All of you look mighty fine. It hurts me that you aren't mine. Twinkle, twinkle little Weiss. I hope this poem will suffice.  
  
A/N: Sorry for the late update! I'm terrible at fight scenes like the first part of this chapter, but as long as I get the point across, it's okay, right? Also, we have Aya acting more Ran-ish than usual. I probably should have called him Ran from the beginning because I'm finding that I like writing him that way, but what's done is done. ::sigh:: Oh! And many thanks to everyone who was kind enough to review!! You are all awesome! Now on with the fic!  
  
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It generally doesn't take me very long to go from point 'a' to point 'b'; or at least not usually. It's a little hard when you don't know exactly where you're going. And as much as this is true of life, I'm afraid I was actually talking about physical displacement. . . That is to say. . . I think I'm lost.  
  
I studied the maps! I know where Omi was headed! I mean it's not like I'm an idiot- but everything looks so different when you're actually here. I gave up trying to look for footprints awhile ago; the snow is too thick coming down. Now I'm just, well, looking for a house near a rather large lake, I guess. From there, I should be able to find the road. Even with all the snow, it should still be visible. Funny, I don't see any water . . . but there's a nice clearing up ahead.  
  
Oh, well. I guess I'll just keep running and I'll bump into somethi-  
  
"Gaaa!"  
  
I took a step into the snow and my foot shuffled forward, sending me crashing backwards, arms flailing, before I descended beneath the blanket of white. Sitting up almost instantly, covered in numbing snow, I attempted to stand once again, only to slip and fall a second time.  
  
". . .?" I rubbed my head before pushing away some of the snow to find ice underneath. I realized quite quickly, and with a good deal of embarrassment, that I was actually sitting in the middle of a rather large, frozen pond.  
  
Well that was thoroughly pointless, but at least I found what I was looking for . . . and there's the house! I stood slowly and stepped cautiously until I reached the same incline I had come down on into the pond and ran around it past the structure and to the road. Just a little farther. . .  
  
I slipped behind a tree at the first sight of a certain white-haired someone up ahead, though much more camouflaged then me, had had already made himself known. I saw several darts fly in from the left and berserker dodged them lithely. The white-haired man took out his two daggers and tossed them in Omi's direction. I restrained myself from looking, and closed my eyes to calm myself.  
  
It's too dangerous to look for Omi's position. . . . I don't have a weapon, so my best advantage is the element of surprise. But whatever I'm going to do, I'd better do it fast. Be resourceful, Ken . . . resourceful! Well, I think snowballs are a bit childish at this point, and my fists can pack a punch but it's not a sure knockout. Wait, I've got it! Finally a use for this orange sweater. . .  
  
I untied it from my waist quickly and gathered a thin layer of snow onto it. Pressing my hands on top turned snow to water and dampened the cloth so it wouldn't break. A few more darts grazed the air, a little closer to me, now. Omi's alright! Thank goodness. One hit the tree I was attempting to hide behind and I saw berserker only a few feet in front. Thank God he hasn't seen me yet. Now time for some fun. . . Youji style.  
  
I came up behind him and twisted the sweater around his neck. I looked up to see Omi, who yelled my name in surprise, but I could only half-hear through the pounding in my ears as Berserker fought my grip. The fact that I was strangling him seemed to have no effect at all. What the heck IS this guy? He tired to shake me off, but I held fast, even as I felt his teeth sink into my arm.  
  
I think I'm going to need shots now. I shivered unconsciously. The thought of rabies only briefly passed through my mind as I noticed one bandaged arm reach to his back . . . I had missed one very important detail.  
  
My vision blurred as I felt the enemy's third dagger pierce my stomach.  
  
"A t-third one. . . .'s k-kinda n-nifty," I bit my tongue, fighting the instinct to stagger back and draw the metal from my stomach.  
  
Cringing, I pulled harder on the two ends of the sweater to drown the pain. If I let just one hand go, it would all be over, so the dagger remained embedded in me. I almost didn't notice anymore. My hands were numb with cold, and all I could hold onto now were the ends of that infernal sweater and my consciousness . . . but just barely.  
  
The only thing I can remember after that before I passed-out was the red snow by a dagger to my side, and Omi leaning over me, talking about something . . . frantically. I could see the world in color; red, before both my mind and body became numb.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"So this is their hideout?" Crawford pushed his glasses up a tad, "Pitiful, really." He looked over at the small psychic he had come with, who chose not to say anything to that, or even turn around, for that matter.  
  
Without warning, Nagi thrust one open hand in front of him, and a gust of wind gathered around his fingers, circling for one second around restless hair. Suddenly coming together, all at once, as if summoned forward by the hand, a great gust knocked down the door to the flower shop in front of it.  
  
"Good work," the taller man stepped over the door and into the shop, nearly knocking over a pot of geraniums to his right, and the ringing of a phone could be heard from the next room. Both members of Schwarz ignored it.  
  
"I don't think they're here," Nagi said outright. Crawford turned to him with a superior air.  
  
"According to Siberian, Abyssinian and Balinese are watching this shop. I trust that he would know where his own comrades are. It is foolish not to," he continued into the back of the shop as the ringing stopped. Nagi sighed.  
  
"Their energy isn't here," the smallest member of Schwarz proceeded to walk over the door of the hanaya, leaving Crawford to search through as many doors as he wished. But as Nagi had told him, there was nothing to be found except a calico cat that wandered the halls. Crawford restrained himself from killing it out of mere frustration as he joined Nagi outside the building. He narrowed his eyes slightly.  
  
"It seems we have underestimated our opponent's ability to control his thoughts," he hissed.  
  
"Don't get angry at me," Nagi crossed his arms, "I never wanted to do this, anyway."  
  
Crawford chose to ignore that comment, as they both waited to hear word from Schuldig. Ever the impatient one, Nagi spoke up.  
  
"What's Schuldig good for anyway if he can't tell false thoughts from genuine ones? I say we forget this stupid crusade of his." There were a few seconds silence.  
  
"Weiss is our enemy. If there is a force that drives him to get rid of Bombay, by all means, I say let him do it. We will destroy them, and Schuldig's purpose will not get in the way of that. Siberian will pay for his deception."  
  
Nagi sighed once again, "Whatever you say."  
  
~~~meanwhile~~~~  
  
"Are you ready Youji?" Aya stayed in his position until he had the consent of his partner.  
  
"Don't hold back. . ." the blond edged forward ever so slightly and smirked, "I like to play hard."  
  
"I'm not sure if you could handle it," Aya smirked back. If Youji wanted to raise the bar, he certainly wouldn't object.  
  
"Try me," Youji readied himself for the oncoming thrust. Aya sent himself forward into the swing, and Youji reciprocated. "Too slow!" he cried out, forcing the pace to quicken, beginning to sweat slightly.  
  
"Yes!" Youji yelled; holding up his paddle in victory as the ping pong ball bounced to the floor off of Aya's side of the net. The red-haired man narrowed his eyes in annoyance as the man opposite him began to do an interesting little victory dance, "Ha! For all that bragging, you weren't even a challenge." (1)  
  
Aya sighed, putting down the paddle in defeat, and looked up to see Youji grinning and talking to the girls in the recreation hall who had flocked around him in admiration. They all had gotten coffee at the coffee stand and each of them insisted on buying Youji a cup. Aya couldn't help but feel a little ignored, but he did end up smiling as he caught his lover's eyes they turned around to look at him, winking playfully.  
  
He had forgotten how nice it was to spend together; just the two of them. Of course, they both had their share of girls who would flock whenever they were around, and the only reason he let them stay was Youji seemed to enjoy the attention. He, however, could only just bear it. It seemed they were disbanding, now. Good.  
  
"Hey Aya," Youji walked over, "I'm hungry. When do you think we're going to eat lunch?"  
  
"Hn" Aya answered, seemingly unmoved by his statement. He was too busy thinking about the state they left Ken and Omi in . . . it wasn't exactly ideal. Youji did have plans to get them together, despite how spontaneous their actions had been so far. There was a fairly well known outdoor ice rink very close to the resort, and he knew Youji planned to slip two pre- paid tickets to the nearly-sold-out laser-light ice ball into Ken's pockets (but that was too dangerous). He still needed a good idea of how to make sure that they get them.  
  
In any case, Youji seemed determined to make them have a good time.  
  
However, the tickets would mean nothing if Omi refused to go with him. It didn't make sense to Youji why that would be the case, because he knew as well as anyone less dense than Ken, (. . . which is most everyone), how crazy their genki young teammate was about him. And then, of course, there was always the possibility that Ken would be too afraid to ask Omi at all, in which case one of them would have to make himself known and slap some sense into him. As things stood, they didn't feel any need to . . . yet. Aya rummaged through the bag he had packed.  
  
"Here," Aya tossed an apple in Youji's direction as he walked over. Youji caught it and looked back at Aya in surprise, "You said you were hungry."  
  
"Yeah. . ." Youji looked at the apple thoughtfully, twisting it around, and looking at the unused coffee stirrers on the ping pong table that the girls from before had left there upon accident. He then suddenly grinned.  
  
Aya raised an eyebrow. It's generally a good thing when Youji smiles, but a terrifying thing when he grins.  
  
"Hey, Aya? Have you ever made . . . apple people?" Aya raised both eyebrows, widening his eyes slightly at the question upon realizing that Youji was actually serious. "Here, I'll show you. . ." Youji fumbled looking for a pocket knife in his jeans, but unsuccessfully, "Do you have a pocket knife?"  
  
Aya reluctantly handed his over, and watched as the blond cut two eyes and a mouth out of the front of the apple, eating the pieces as he went. He smiled and stuck a coffee stirrer on its sides as arms, holding out the creation triumphantly in Aya's glaring face. He would have gotten angry but the apple looked so . . . happy.  
  
"Why?" Aya asked simply. The whole thing was utterly and annoyingly ridiculous. On the other hand, Youji seemed very pleased with himself.  
  
"Well, someone has to deliver these, and it's not going to be me," the blond held out the ice-skating ball tickets in the hand that the apple person wasn't sitting on. Aya merely raised an eyebrow. How did he get himself into these things?  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Omi gazed down at the unconscious body on the bed, breathing heavily, and replaced the lukewarm damp cloth on the wound with a hot one he brought from the bathroom, and the unconscious body twitched backwards in a cringe. No matter how lightly the cloth was laid, it had to be painful. Ken was always so reckless. What if he hadn't been there to throw that dart at berserker? Then what, Ken?! Then what?! Omi clenched his fists in anger.  
  
He wasn't sure if he was glad or not that the dart hadn't been poisoned. Omi had been sure that all of them had quick-reaction sedatives to be in accordance to Persia's mission order that they should kill no one. However, the fact that Schwarz was behind this could change everything. He would have to contact Manx at once. And yet, he didn't want to . . .  
  
He looked down at Ken's motionless face, still pale from the cold, and laid a hand across his cheek to smooth the pained expression. When the corners of the former goalie's mouth twitched upward, Omi stole his hand away quickly and guiltily, embarrassed at the feeling that possessed him to do something like that. He had no right.  
  
Ken must have . . . thought it was someone else; in his dream maybe. He knew that Ken didn't want to be here. Ken made that very clear to Youji the night before they left. Omi turned away. It was all because of him. He couldn't understand it, Ken had always been so kind to him, but acted strange sometimes. That is, not exactly 'strange'. For Ken, normal is underrated. Now that he thought of it, Ken had made a point to avoid him these past few weeks in the shop, and now this. The sting Omi felt in his chest refused to leave. He realized. . . I mean, for a long time. . . Nothing hurts quite like unrequited love.  
  
Omi jumped as he saw the brown-headed man stir on the bed, and quickly gathered up a voice to say something.  
  
"Ken? Ken, are you awake?!" the blond looked concerned as he saw Ken try to move, eyes still shut, and then wince.  
  
"No, just french fries don't forget. . ." Ken broke off awkwardly, swallowing, ". . . the mayonnaise." Ken paused, as if stating to continue, but then stopped and resumed breathing heavily. Omi sighed. French fries with mayonnaise. Ken definitely was still sleeping, but come to think of it, Omi was getting a little hungry.  
  
Ken stirred again, tried to roll over onto his wounded side and awoke with a yell and a jolt upward into a sitting position.  
  
"Ken, don't move-" But it was too late, Ken already had, and howled in even more pain than before as he collapsed back down to where he had been, sprawled out on the bed, and sweating.  
  
"Ken-kun, you shouldn't do that, your wound is going to open up again!" Omi checked worriedly beneath the towel on the bandage and made sure the blood wasn't soaking through, completely unaware that every thought going through Ken's head was not on the status of his wound, but rather about how good Omi looked, and how close he was. . . with his hands on Ken's chest. . . and that angry expression left his cheeks flushed red. . .  
  
"Thank you. I'm fine," Ken flashed a smile, and attempted to come into a sitting position once again, slowly this time. Omi did not object. . .  
  
. . . until Ken tried to leave the bed altogether.  
  
"Owwowwwow!" Ken hissed as Omi pushed him back onto the bed, gently, but enough so that it was clear he didn't want Ken getting up again, "What'd you do that for?! It's not like I'm an invalid! I can get up!" Ken yelled in annoyance.  
  
"Well, it doesn't look like that to me, you're staying in bed, and that's final!" Omi yelled right back, tilting downward as he leaned one hand against the bedpost, the other fist clenched, "I didn't bring you here and fix that wound of yours so that you could get up and get hurt again! You're so reckless to do something like that in the first place! I mean, you didn't even have a weapon, you could have been killed . . . " Omi trailed off and stopped being angry as he froze, realizing his position.  
  
He might have leaned just a little too close. Well, at least it seemed that way, because it really wasn't Omi's words that Ken was smirking at, or mesmerized by. That's what Omi had just begun to notice. There was an awkward silence.  
  
"K-ken-kun?" Omi breathed. He had ended his speech leaning down about five inches away from a very tempting target, who was completely taken. A deep blush crossed Omi's cheeks as well and he averted his eyes, "err, well . . . that is, sorry I . . . was just worried you were. . ."  
  
There was silence, and Omi felt the pounding of blood rushing through his ears, and it was ALMOST enough to drown out all noise. . . but alas, it wasn't. Just as he leaned forward, so much that Omi could feel Ken's breath on his lips, there was a loud rapping on the door.  
  
Omi jumped nearly a foot in the air, and Ken flung his head backward in surprise, hitting the bedpost, resulting in a face somewhat like this: @_@  
  
"I-I'll get it," Omi stuttered as he backed away from the bed and turned around to the door. He opened it cautiously, and looked both ways into an empty hallway. Then he looked down, and there it was. . . arms outspread and smiling up at him. . . an apple on top of two pieces of paper.  
  
Omi stared at the fruit for a few seconds, dot-eyed and confused. Who. . . or better yet, WHY was there a frighteningly happy apple at their door? His first thought was 'Schwarz' . . . and his second thought was upon looking at the apple, 'there's no way in hell', but the pieces of paper were really what drew most of his interest.  
  
Ken, who had recovered quickly from his head injury, soon began to wonder what was taking Omi so long, and why he didn't hear anything, "What is it?" he said rather loudly, but Omi had already shut the door and was walking in. He placed the apple person on the table and took the two tickets into his hand.  
  
"These seem to be tickets to an ice-skating ball. Do you think it's a trap. . .? KEN?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"  
  
Ken looked up innocently, his mouth full of apple, "Whout?"  
  
"Do you even realize this could have been sent by our ENEMY?!" Omi fumed, "This is Schwarz we're talking about. They could have poisoned that. Put it down!"  
  
"Tastes fine to me," Ken said, taking another bite. Omi tensed. He felt like he was taking care of a five-year-old who insisted on chewing on crayons.  
  
"Fine, then. It doesn't even matter now that you've started," he sighed, "Be lucky I don't think that Schwarz would even bother poisoning it because they don't take us to be IDIOTS!" Omi glared accusingly at the currently bed-ridden brunette who muttered a 'sorry' and continued eating, looking a little hurt.  
  
Omi looked at Ken, and immediately regretted his words. He had been angry because he was afraid that Ken's carelessness would end up killing him, but to call Ken an idiot was beyond the bounds of forgivable. He felt ten times smaller. Gods he loved him. . . why did he have to be such a jerk sometimes? That's maybe what love does. . . Omi was frightened by the close call. One thing he failed to mention or acknowledge were the tears of worry that had come over his first thought of losing Ken. He was still shaken and confused.  
  
"I'm really sorry, Ken. . . I had no right to say that. It's just that I worry about you," He stopped at the shaking of the brown head in front of him.  
  
"No, it's alright," Ken said, "I wasn't going to tell you, but if it makes you feel better, I think I have a pretty good idea who sent this," He shook the half-eaten apple in his hand, "Youji's been playing some tricks on me lately. I don't know who he got to do this, but it's definitely his handiwork. . . I'd bet my favorite soccer ball on it," he took another bite.  
  
Omi raised his eyebrows, "Any ideas why Youji would send us these," He held up the two tickets. Ken feigned confusion.  
  
"No clue," he said, almost believably. Of course, he knew why. . . probably in the hopes of somewhere between his bad skills on ice and hot chocolate that something would. . . happen.  
  
"Then there is still a chance that it is a trap," Omi deduced, "and if there is any possibility of investigation at this event, you know we have to go, which means that you'd better come prepared this time, and you also have to recover before tomorrow night."  
  
Ken nodded as he finished the apple. He had no objections to this. Actually, if his wound closed completely he would be ready to maybe take some of Youji's advice. He saw something in Omi's eyes when they had gotten close, and he wasn't so sure that his chances were completely dashed anymore. Maybe his close call with death had made him realize something beyond himself. He was willing to do anything for Omi, and Omi had taken care of him. Omi was worried about him. Of course, these are things that friends would do for each other, but if he didn't start taking some action, or even TRY, like Youji had been saying before, then nothing was ever going to happen. He didn't want to jeopardize their friendship, true, but this had been going on far too long. He couldn't take it anymore.  
  
This apple was a reminder. Ken fingered the apple core and made a promise to himself right then. When it all came down to it, there was just a basic decision to be made, and it was as simple as the toss of a coin, so he promised himself that if he could throw the apple core into the garbage can all the way across the room, then he would try to win Omi over at the ice rink. If he didn't make it, things would stay as they were and he'd wait in agony for the rest of his life, or however long he could keep the secret.  
  
He threw the apple into the air and it landed in the can. He turned to smile at Omi, "Then I guess. . . it's a date." Omi blushed.  
  
"You mean, it's the mission," the blond replied, "You'd better get some rest before then."  
  
"Yeah, the mission," Ken sank down into the pillow, wincing slightly at the movement. Well, he'd made the shot, there's no turning back now. His mission he just assigned himself was very different from the one Persia had given them, and only slightly less dangerous than taking on berserker with nothing more than an orange sweater.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
(1) Well, what did you THINK they were doing? ^_~  
  
~~~~~~  
  
a/n: Please forgive the apple people. ^^;; You should understand the chaotic nature of this story by now. Again I apologize for this chapter, but the next one should be better. Ken and Omi go ice skating ^^ Now I don't have to think up anything silly like apple people to make things more interesting.  
  
Okay, I've run out of things to say, and if you leave a review it would make my day! (Hey, that rhymes!!) ^^ 


	6. Weiss on Ice

A/N and Disclaimer: Yep yep! New chapter up! ^^ I do not own Nerf, nor do I own Weiss Kreuz. Though I'd settle for just about any part of Weiss, they wouldn't let me have ANYTHING! Not even the broom from the flower shop . . . though they might have given me the dirt swept up by it, I didn't venture to ask. That would just be weird. And my apologies for OOCness in this chapter, but it was for humor purposes.  
  
Also, thank you Sky Rat for pointing-out that some people might have been confused last chapter. Hanaya= flower shop. I won't use any more Japanese, okay, 'cept for 'kun' because . . . well, just because of Omi, and the wonderful alliteration it has with 'Ken'. ^^  
  
Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers! I love you all! ::gives everyone a happy holidays hug::  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
For some reason Ken couldn't get to sleep that night. He tried counting sheep, thinking happy thoughts, meditation, even holding his breath until he passed out. But he didn't. Ken just ended up with a rather irritating headache and minor case of hyperventilation. I'd say it was just his luck, but it had more to do with his selective case of stupidity.  
  
He felt a little guilty about sleeping on the bed, but Omi wouldn't let him sleep on the floor, despite his protest. With Omi asleep on the ground, and only shadows to keep him company, it did get boring . . . well, until Ken decided to make use of his company.  
  
Using skilled finger puppet technique, he used the illuminating streetlights outside to cast images of Omi and himself on the opposite wall.  
  
Well, actually, he just decided Omi was most like a rabbit, and he was most like a dog. And that was pretty much the extent of his skill, so it would have to do.  
  
The Omi rabbit stood alone on the wall, hopping around patiently until the Ken dog came onto the wallpaper. Ken moved his hands closer together.  
  
"Hey, Omi?" Ken faked a strong masculine voice in a whisper.  
  
"Oh! Ken! I was looking for you," a high-pitched voice whispered back.  
  
"You're beautiful. Would you go out with me?" the dog moved his mouth with a hesitant air. Ken paused a second, letting his hands descend to the bed sheets before he let his upper body go back down onto the bed. The dog and rabbit fell off the wall somewhere in the midst of this. Ken sighed loudly.  
  
. . . perhaps too loudly, because Omi stirred on the ground.  
  
". . . I'll go out with you," he mumbled.  
  
Ken jumped then blushed, almost as if it were a single action, "Omi?! Really?!"  
  
"Yeah," Omi breathed briefly, mumbling slightly, but all that was audible was, ". . . You smell nice."  
  
"E~?" despite his density (Kennium: 9.0 X 10e7856 g/cm squared), he could tell that Omi wouldn't say something like that and ventured to make a deduction, ". . . are you awake?"  
  
"Sure, I'd love a crepe. . ." Omi tossed, turning towards Ken, revealing his closed eyes, and the brunette kicked himself mentally. If he had -actually- kicked himself, it wouldn't have been very pretty. A professional career in Soccer against a nearly fatal knife wound will do that.  
  
"I'm such an idiot!" Ken whispered angrily at himself. He'd actually believed Omi had been talking to him. What was even worse was that Omi was dreaming about having a date with someone, now, and it couldn't be him. He clenched his teeth, but he really felt more like crying than anything.  
  
Even more than he wanted to get to sleep, he just wanted to cry into his pillow, but he didn't dare. There was always a chance that Omi would wake, or that Youji had another trick up his sleeve. But Omi liked someone, and it wasn't him . . . his spirit was breaking. He wasn't ready for this rejection, but he promised himself he had to tell Omi tonight. He just couldn't go on like this. Ken choked back what threatened to come when he looked at the sleeping figure on the ground, who had a blissfully happy smile plastered across his perfectly shaped face.  
  
He almost didn't notice as an unwanted tear slipped down his cheek.  
  
"Crap," he hissed, wiping it away hatefully with the sleeve of his shirt as he buried his head into his pillow.  
  
It wasn't long before Ken sobbed himself to sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Ken opened his eyes slowly, the fuzzy wall coming into focus from the blinding daylight that flooded the room. He had a headache.  
  
"Ken-kun?" Omi's face became the focal point of the picture painted before him. So beautiful . . . "You're awake early," he threw Ken a smile.  
  
"It's only seven?" Ken asked rhetorically, holding his forehead with one hand as he glanced at the clock and pushed himself up with his other arm, closing his eyes in a cringe of pain, (both kinds, as he recalled his breakdown the previous night). Ken opened one curiously, "Then why are you up at this hour, Omi?"  
  
The blonde turned away as he gathered something into his hands, presenting a plate and fork to the bedridden Ken with a single reply, "breakfast".  
  
"Wow. Thanks. You really didn't have to go through all the trouble," Ken mentioned, but accepted the plate anyway, "I could have called in for. . . room service or something."  
  
"Don't be silly. It wasn't out of the way, I have to eat, too, you know," Omi smiled again as he pulled out his laptop from its hiding place under the bed, "And you need to stay right there until tonight. We have our work cut out for us."  
  
Ken dove in hungrily for the eggs, but waited to swallow before talking, "Did you get in touch with Manx?" Ken took another bite.  
  
"No," Omi answered, turning on his computer and opening several files he'd researched about Schwarz, "But I'm sure we can use weapons, now. . . for self-defense, and based on previous encounters we've had with this enemy, there's no way they could deny us that anymore on this mission" he paused to type, "Especially with your injury."  
  
"Yeah, getting skewered isn't my idea of a good time," Ken illustrated as his fork prongs dug into a chunk of fried potato. But . . . then he realized what he was doing, and felt only slightly and oddly sorry for the poor potato and placed it back on his plate. Not that he was a potato, or anything but . . . the symbolism was just too painful, "So what now?"  
  
"We aim to kill," Omi said (excuse the pun), "They must have planned to catch us off guard at the ice rink."  
  
"Um. . . I think that was Youji who sent us those . . ." Ken tried to say.  
  
"Well, there's always the possibility, but I don't think we should immediately assume."  
  
"Okay. . . but that's the same thing you're doing with Schwarz" Ken added. Omi was probably right, anyway. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't picture Schuldig making an apple person. Of course, it might be his fault that he could picture Youji making one.  
  
Omi looked at Ken, and sighed, "Alright. Why don't you call them, then?" he said, handing the phone to Ken casually before continuing his mission report. Ken stood there a bit, and Omi looked back to make sure that Ken was actually DOING something with the phone instead of just holding it. Sure enough . . . he was just holding it.  
  
"Ken." Omi tried to explain, "Phones are used for calling people. We have the right to call Aya and Youji. We LIVE with them."  
  
Ken (who was completely absorbed in thought for a moment) snapped back into the world of the living with a jump and an odd sound, "erf?"  
  
"umm . . . 'Nerf?'" Omi quoted.  
  
"huh? No, Nerf is a squishy thing you throw at people. 'erf' is a kind of surprised noise. What I mean is I'll call them, I was just zoning out a little. . ." Ken thought a second at this piece of wisdom as he began to dial, along with something that had been bothering him, and why he wasn't thinking straight in the first place while Omi had a hard time choking back a giggle as he started back on his laptop work.  
  
Ken dialed the number and waited for the phone to ring, but it didn't. Three ascending notes came over the line followed by a recorded message telling him the line was out.  
  
"That's strange," Ken announced as he hung up.  
  
"What is?" asked Omi.  
  
"The phone's out." Omi turned around in his chair with surprise.  
  
"Really?" He widened his eyes, "We must be loosing a lot of flower orders right now. I wonder if they've noticed yet."  
  
"Omi" Ken addressed, growing serious and getting the blondes attention, "Mastermind spoke to me . . . that's how I knew you were being attacked. He said that they were attacking Aya and Youji too. I'd forgotten about that until just now," Omi frowned gravely.  
  
"Well, we're just going to have to trust them to take care of themselves," he answered coolly, "there's nothing we can do."  
  
Ken looked at his hands that he wrung in his lap. That was true enough. Omi was always right. The trip from this mountain back to the shop was at least a full day's worth of travel. They wouldn't have time to be there and back for their rendez-vous with Schwarz . . . or so Omi had him believe. Ken realized now that if Schwarz had gotten to Youji and Aya, they wouldn't have been able to deliver anything, (aka the apple).  
  
Then Aya and Youji might be. . .  
  
. . . Here?!?!  
  
Ken froze. That's right!! He knocked his hand against his forehead. Those direct surveillance devices he'd found in the drawer only have a three mile radius! They had to be here. Thank goodness, that means that Schwarz didn't get to them. . .  
  
But that still doesn't explain the phone line. Maybe Schwarz got to the shop and did a little damage before figuring out that that Youji and Aya weren't there. That's brilliant. Now there's only one thing left to worry about. . .  
  
YOUJI AND AYA ARE -HERE- DAMNNIT!!  
  
They've been here, and have been spying on us this whole time. In person! Ken flushed from embarrassment. I can understand Youji, but. . . Aya~?! When did he turn against me? Okay, so there was that one time I put blond hair dye in his shampoo, and his hair was orange for a week . . . but that was soooooo long ago, and he already beat me up and then everything was cool. Oh . . . unless he's mad about that plant pot I broke when I violated the 'no soccer in the house' rule, but I didn't think he'd found that yet.  
  
And what about tonight? Ken was sure that if Aya and Youji were here then the tickets were definitely their doing. How could they not be? Youji had been trying to get him and Omi together for ages, but Ken had only just realized. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to be himself around Omi with the paranoia of knowing that he might be watched hanging over him.  
  
But the apple had spoken true. He would go tonight even if it killed him . . . either from the wound or the embarrassment didn't matter much at this point. He just hoped that they wouldn't find Youji or Aya there. That might be messier than finding Schwarz.  
  
Ken attempted to get out of bed, but Omi saw him out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"You should stay in bed, Ken. That wound has a ways to go from being healed. You should know that better than I do," Omi mentioned, "please rest."  
  
Ken stopped. He really felt like walking around (laying in bed was the most boring thing ever~!) but for Omi. . . he'd do anything. And so he lay down again, without sigh or complaint, reaching for the remote.  
  
"But you should be fine after you rest, so we're still going tonight to the ice rink together, right?" Omi commented almost rhetorically. Ken decided to answer anyway.  
  
"Well, I think so . . . unless you don't think it's a good idea, Dr. Tsukiyono. I'm supposed to be resting." Ken smirked as he talked, but stopped speaking upon seeing a blush creep over Omi's face.  
  
"Well, I think you'll be fine, but we'll see," The blond said through red cheeks as he continued typing. This whole reaction was unexpected, but strangely Ken found himself blushing back and feeling all warm inside like someone had poured a kettle of tea water straight into his stomach. It burned, and yet he tingled all over. There was an awkward silence as Omi got up, sitting in a chair opposite the bed near the television.  
  
". . . I'm sure things will be just fine. . . " Omi told himself as he picked up a book by the chair, his blush dimming, and proceeded to read.  
  
"Mind if I watch T.V.?" Ken asked, waving the remote in Omi's general direction.  
  
"Go ahead." Omi said, looking up only briefly.  
  
Ken pressed the button on the remote that flicked the screen on. A pandemonium of voices came through. Switching the channels until getting to the sports, Ken watched as a basketball star shot a two-pointer into a hoop. Too bad soccer isn't on. Straying his eyes from the television, Ken glanced at Omi. This was more entertainment than he could ever wish for. Just to be able to look at him, observe him, even knowing the pains of unrequited love, he had been content to just watch.  
  
Well . . . so far.  
  
~~~~~~several hours, several miles, and several basketball games later~~~~~~~  
  
"No." Aya glared at the ice skates, "Just. . . No."  
  
Youji sighed running his fingers through his hair from the front as he pulled away from the redhead, taking the cigarette out of his mouth before talking, "Geez, Aya. It's not like they're going to bite you."  
  
"I don't ice skate."  
  
"You mean you can't?"  
  
"I mean I DON'T!" Aya flushed with anger. Youji had hit it right on the nose, but it's not like he would ever actually admit to it . . . though it seemed that's the way things were heading.  
  
"Shhh!" Youji hissed in a panic, and Aya focused immediately, grabbing the cowboy hat that Youji had let him . . . or rather -forced- him to borrow (1), and hiding beneath thick sunglasses, Aya sat silently next to the recently hooded Youji as Ken and Omi entered through the glass door to the outside. Ken handed the monitor the tickets, she stamped their hands, and Ken and Omi walked right past them, barely even noticing they were there.  
  
The hooded figure lifted the hood slightly off his eyes to make sure that the coast was clear. Youji sighed heavily, throwing the hood back entirely.  
  
"That was too close for comfort," he relaxed, becoming serious, and letting his right fist fall into his left hand, "Okay, we stick to the plan."  
  
"What plan?" Aya asked, sweat-dropping nervously.  
  
"You know, the plan where YOU. . .," Youji pointed an accusing finger at the surprised face, ". . .go out and pursue the SUBJECT," Youji waved his hand in the rink's general direction, flipping it back sharply to point at the pair of neglected ice skates, ". . .in THOSE."  
  
Aya's right eyebrow twitched. "And what will -you- be doing?"  
  
"Hanging out here," Youji smirked playfully, ". . . with hot figure skaters . . ." He whistled as a girl in a leotard walked by. She ignored him and you could almost see the angry squiggles that Aya's head emitted. Finally, looking up with a glare that would freeze lava, Aya flung the ice skates at Youji's head.  
  
"Why don't YOU go?" Aya growled, waiting for Youji to collect himself.  
  
"Too suspicious," Youji rubbed the back of his head, and the bump he had deserved. "And besides, you have the right look." He paused, bringing his thumbs and forefingers out to make a frame. He distanced the frame from his face, tilting it, and closing one eye to see it more clearly. "Perfect."  
  
". . .?"  
  
"You look nothing like yourself!"  
  
". . ." Aya blinked, though you couldn't tell beneath his sunglasses or Youji's hat.  
  
"Well, you know, to disguise me, you'd probably have to cut off my hair or something (2) But you're fine! You look like John Wayne in those old western movies." Youji grinned, rubbing his chin as if in deep thought, looking at Aya's costume. Youji noticed the door to the ice rink behind their fearless leader, "So, it would make sense for you to go. Take this headset, so we can keep in touch. No one will see it under that hat."  
  
Youji handed Aya the headset, and Aya stood there, angry, as he put it on along with the ice skates. Standing and looking at the mirror on the opposite wall, Aya sweat-dropped. He looked like the lead to a production of 'cowboys on ice'.  
  
Youji, seeing Aya standing in front of the opening to the rink, and completely absorbed in his reflection, saw a golden opportunity.  
  
Aya widened his eyes wider than we've ever seen them before as Youji gave him a gentle push onto the ice. Aya slid for a couple of yards, waving his arms ridiculously before promptly falling back against the rink wall, ending with legs widespread across the ice and his glasses half falling off of his nose. Youji could help but laugh. He spoke into the headpiece.  
  
"So you really can't skate," Aya growled as the voice came over the speaker, chuckling hopelessly.  
  
"I've never tried before," Aya answered in a whisper as he got up, holding the support bar, wiping off the shaved ice on his wet pants and venturing out once more. . . before sliding forward and falling backwards onto the ice.  
  
So much for secrecy, Aya thought. He seemed to be attracting the most attention in the entire rink.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ken looked at his feet as he moved them across the ice, taking it slow. Every time he moved his left leg, he had to balance his waist on the right. Most people don't realize this when they're skating, but the stabbing pain in your side every time your muscles tense to balance makes you notice these things.  
  
He was going very slowly, and Omi had left him behind a minute ago, speeding through the crowd. He said he was surveying the crowd for suspicious characters, and told Ken he could wait behind. Ken tried to protest, but it was too late and Omi had already gone ahead.  
  
Ken jumped slightly as he felt a tap on his right shoulder, and turned to look, but there was no one there. He took another stride but nearly lost his balance as Omi skated up on his left, grinning.  
  
"Gotcha," the blond picked up the pace and turned to skate backwards in front of Ken, holding his hands behind him playfully. Omi swayed side to side with each stride, still smiling.  
  
"Yeah," Ken smiled back. Omi was just too adorable, "you got me." Double entendre?  
  
Omi looked closer at Ken, noticing that he limped slightly on the ice, wanting to put as little pressure on his left leg as possible.  
  
"Ken-kun, are you okay?" Omi asked, turning back to skate forward at Ken's side. "Is it too painful? I didn't see anyone very suspicious, so I could sit out with you for a little while if you're not feeling well."  
  
"I'm fine. . ." Ken was about to stop there, but then he got a brilliant idea, ". . . but maybe just to be sure I don't, you know, fall or anything. . ." Ken looked to his side, and slipped his bare hand into Omi's.  
  
Omi's cheeks were already pink with the cold, but Ken could have sworn that they turned a deeper shade as Omi jumped slightly at the touch. It was only a nervous hiccup of a jump, but it made Ken want to wrap the smaller body in his arms and tell him how much he loved him. . . how much he wanted him. . . how much he wanted to hold those cold hands until they were as warm as his own.  
  
"Your hand is so cold . . ." Ken remarked, closing his hand more tightly, still just as gentle, but with a new kind of message, "Hold mine until it's warm again?"  
  
Omi smiled, looking down at his skates, ". . . sure."  
  
Ken and Omi continued to skate together, hand in hand. They looked like the perfect couple, and were getting a few stares, but both of them had almost completely cut off all affiliation with the outside world. It was like the only thing left was the other's hand. Ken couldn't even feel the pain of his side anymore.  
  
However none of this was quite enough to make him not notice the mysterious man in a cowboy hat that slipped and fell as they passed by. A pang went through Ken's head as he put the pieces together.  
  
#1. Strangely familiar cowboy hat  
  
#2. Is that. . . dark red hair? . . . I can't really see that well.  
  
#3. Long gold earring. Just one.  
  
#4. OMG, IT'S AYA!  
  
Ken, during this realization, forgot temporarily where he put his feet . . . or was it that he forgot he had feet in the first place? In any case, he lost his footing, and toppled over face-first. There was a surging pain in his side as he realized that he hadn't hit hard ground. He actually fell on top of something.  
  
Opening his eyes from wincing, he made his second realization. That 'something' was actually Omi.  
  
Ken's brain went immediately from his pain to his heart, which picked up its pace considerably. It must have been his fault for telling Omi not to let go of his hand. He tried to move, but he couldn't without the pain being too great. He tried to speak, but the sound didn't come out. He could not only feel his own heart beating, but Omi's as well. They were both just as fast.  
  
Was that possible?  
  
After realizing his situation was when Ken was finally able to look at Omi's face . . . not that he hadn't been looking at it for the past few seconds . . . but he hadn't really realized it was there in its entirety. Omi was only a breath away. His eyes were wide and his cheeks were as pink as ever. The way Omi's hair fell on the ice made him crazy. The funny thing was that Ken couldn't help thinking Omi looked like a blushing schoolgirl right before her first kiss.  
  
"K-ken kun . . . ?" Omi breathed. Ken felt a hand clutch his sleeve, and saw Omi's eyes begin to grow more watery, but Omi closed them in embarrassment and turned his head purposely so that he wouldn't be able to see, "Why are you just staying there?!" Omi yelled, looking back with pleading eyes.  
  
"Because I-. . ."  
  
Ken couldn't lie . . . he wanted to tell the truth. Those eyes were pleading for something. He didn't know what, but the beating of Omi's heart against his own told him that it wasn't for him to leave.  
  
"We're attracting attention, Ken," Omi whispered.  
  
"I can't let you go," Ken told him simply. That wasn't a lie. There was something that he needed to tell him. Ken couldn't go on like this. He didn't care if the whole world knew . . . he didn't care if Aya knew. This was . . . love.  
  
Ken leaned forward, closing his eyes as he let his lips descend on Omi's. The whole world left them. Omi opened his eyes wider, unable to believe this was really happening, but when he felt Ken against him, he knew it was true. All of Omi's emotion flooded into his eyes and filled them with water, so that as he closed them, tears slid down his face and onto the ice.  
  
Ken pulled away quickly, ashamed, as soon as he tried to cup Omi's cheek, feeling the tears that stained them, "s-sorry I. . ." He sat up, looking miserable, "I didn't mean to make you cry-"  
  
But he barely had time to finish, because Omi had come onto his knees and had thrown his arms around Ken, sobbing freely, "I love you" he whispered into Ken's ear, holding onto him tightly.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Abyssinian?. . . Abyssinian?! Do you copy?" Youji yelled into the headset. "Mission status!" He demanded.  
  
"Complete." Was Aya's simple reply, as he smirked, watching the scene unfold before him.  
  
"What do you mean 'complete'?"  
  
"Look for yourself."  
  
Youji peered over at the glass, and saw Omi with his arms wrapped around Ken in the middle of the skating rink. "YES!" He cried, jumping up out of his seat with joy. Several people stared at him, "What are you looking at?" He asked them, a little annoyed.  
  
All of the sudden there was an ear-splitting pitch that came over the skating rink intercom. A lot of people stopped skating to cover their ears. Omi withdrew his hug from Ken in surprise.  
  
"May I have your attention, please," a male voice announced into the skating rink, "Will the real slim shady-" there were a couple of muffled scolds followed by an 'ouch', and another voice came over the mike, "We're having an emergency drill. Everyone is obligated to evacuate the building immediately." The mike clicked off.  
  
Ken and Omi narrowed their eyes. There was no mistake . . . Youji looked a bit confused, knowing he'd heard those voices before. Aya, using the headset, called in.  
  
"Youji, that was Schwarz, get ready to fight." Youji narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Okay, I hear you," The blond answered, watching as the entire rink cleared out with the exception of the four of them. "Good thing I'm always prepared." Youji rolled up his arm as if checking a watch, but making sure that his weapon was there instead.  
  
Ken stood up, grabbing his claw out of his pocket and putting it on to get ready. Omi fanned out four darts in his hand as he stood, looking around for anything suspicious. He noticed there was only one person who hadn't left. The hat, the hair, the earring. . .  
  
"Aya-kun? What are you doing here-?!" Omi yelled.  
  
"No time!" Youji cut him off, sending a stream of wire into the air and pulling the arm of a lithe, eye-patched figure that shot down from the ceiling, sending him crashing across the ice instead of into Omi.  
  
"You're both. . .?!" Omi asked incredulously, looking to Ken for an answer, but his face offered nothing.  
  
The screech on the speaker came up again, and all of them turned as Crawford stepped into the rink, "Welcome Weiss," his voice boomed through a smirk, "I was only expecting two of you, but my, my . . . this is a pleasant surprise."  
  
"What do you want?" Aya asked, sliding forward on his skates, having discarded the hat and sunglasses, there was clearly a glare plastered across his face.  
  
Crawford smirked, holding the microphone up to his lips once more as Schuldig and Nagi appeared from behind.  
  
". . . To kill you."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
(1) Aya likes to go stalking Ken and Omi in Youji's Gluhen cowboy hat. A very good disguise in my opinion ^^ Now if we could only figure out how Omi's hair turned gray . . .  
  
(2) Poor Youji doesn't know what they did to him in Gluhen . . . and no, I'm not going to shut up about it. I'm in shock O.o  
  
A/N: dun dun dun. ^^  
  
Leave a review please? I would love it if you do. 


	7. Allergies

A/N: Just in case you're wondering, because for some reason you missed it the first 6 times, I don't own Weiss. Thanks once again to all my wonderful reviewers! You're all awesome! I apologize this chapter is so long overdue.  
  
Warnings: More Ken abuse. But who doesn't love Ken abuse? And erm . . . I'm sorry for random insanity. If you've come this far, you should be aware, but . . . it's only a warning.  
  
.........................................  
  
Crawford slid farther onto the ice. Aya gritted his teeth. He didn't have his sword, and there was nothing around that would serve as a substitute. Besides, he couldn't skate. As things stood, he was completely useless in this battle. Youji could attack from afar, and Omi and Ken were ready to attack up front. Omi happened to be the fastest on skates, but he was a long range fighter, so it wouldn't do him much good.  
  
Schwarz didn't look ready to attack them, but then again, the lack of weapons really wasn't very assuring. They waited.  
  
"Ken-ken," Schuldig smirked, tossing a glance, "I've missed you."  
  
"Likewise." Ken spat, "I've been waiting for a chance to bash your head in."  
  
"Awww, I'm hurt," Schuldig said sarcastically, "Remember the plan." Schuldig shouted, so that all of Schwarz heard. Nagi nodded at the orders, Farfarello bore a look of disgust. He didn't want to miss any vital organs this time.  
  
"What plan. . .?" Crawford smirked, pushed up his glasses, and somehow made it up to Ken before anyone knew what had happened. Ken widened his eyes, opening his mouth, but no sound came out as he fell to his knees.  
  
"KEN-KUN!" Omi was the first to shout, throwing several vengeful darts at Crawford, who dodged them without trouble. Youji threw his wire into the scene, but mastermind was still able to catch it before it wound around his neck.  
  
"What the hell did you do, Crawford?!" Schuldig yelled angrily, throwing the wire he'd caught to the side and looking back at Ken, addressing Crawford once more, "You jerk! That wasn't part the plan!"  
  
"Stop whining, I only knocked him out."  
  
"You weren't supposed to hurt him! We've done enough!"  
  
While the two were arguing, Omi came to Ken's side, and slung his arm over his shoulder. Aya saw what Omi was doing and gave himself a push off the edge of the rink, trying to reach them as fast as possible, but Farfarello stepped out to guard him. He slipped.  
  
"Leave." Aya ordered Omi, as he dragged himself up off the ice.  
  
"But. . ." Omi redistributed Ken's weight over his shoulder. Without him or Ken there, they didn't stand a chance.  
  
"You heard what I said." Aya emphasized, "Now leave!" Omi hesitated, unable to think straight. He needed to get Ken out of there, but he couldn't leave Youji and Aya alone.  
  
"Sorry," Schuldig jumped over, blocking the exit Omi was supposed to have used and grabbing Ken's limp body carefully, "But I'll be taking that."  
  
Omi widened his eyes holding Ken's body closer, and pushed himself away from the enemy, and the enemy away from Ken, sending a few projectiles in the opposite direction. Skidding across the ice, he realized he had just thrown his last dart.  
  
"Omi!" Youji called from the sidelines, "Catch!" Something flew through the air and hit him in the face. Youji cringed, "sorry!"  
  
Pulling the object off of his face, Omi rubbed his head, suddenly realizing that the object Youji had thrown him was . . . an apple? Omi looked, blank expression across his face, from the apple, then to Youji, then back to the apple again . . . and looked up to see Youji give him the 'ok' sign with a wink.  
  
Omi glared. What the heck was his problem!? This was a serious battle! Youji tried to stay quiet, making several hand motions of cutting the apple, and then throwing it toward Schuldig. "Cut the apple, and throw the pieces!" He hissed in a whisper. "Trust me!"  
  
"Trust you?" Omi glared, "Okay! You know what? Fine!" he dropped Ken unceremoniously and drew out a pocketknife he carried. He was glad he hadn't thrown it out before in desperation. He sliced the apple into four pieces, and threw one at the advancing orange-headed Schwarz member.  
  
"Gah!" Schuldig dodged the piece, cringing as he watched the apple juice skid across the ice, "You little. . . HOW THE HECK DID YOU KNOW I'M ALLERGIC TO APPLES?!"  
  
Omi widened his eyes. Allergic? No way . . . like. . . deathly allergic? Well, he supposed if it could happen with peanuts, it could happen with anything. He shrugged, throwing another piece. Schuldig dodged, but the next one came too fast, and it hit him on the bare skin of his neck. He gasped in fear.  
  
Crawford looked over at Schuldig, where mastermind had already begun to clutch his neck and gasp for air. "Oh, great." He put his hand to his head, "Farfarello! Nagi! Let's head out. Schuldig forgot his Epi-pen again."  
  
/mass face fault/  
  
Schwarz was actually . . . leaving?  
  
"Oh, yeah!" Youji grinned at their backs, superiorly on the sidelines. He cupped his hands after them. "How do you like them apples?!"  
  
Aya, still struggling on the ice, wobbled slightly and fell down. Omi was still staring in Schwarz's retreating direction. He couldn't believe it was so easy. Ken was opening his eyes.  
  
"Hey Omi?" Ken looked up dizzily, "Am I in Kansas anymore?"  
  
Omi sighed heavily, but he couldn't help smiling, "No, Ken. I don't think you ever were."  
  
"Oh," the brown-haired assassin smiled lopsidedly, "Right." And he was out.  
  
...........................................  
  
"That was completely irresponsible of you!" Omi paced the room, with the occasional angry glance at the two culprits on the couch. Youji yawned, and Aya. . .well. . .looked like Aya. "Especially you!" Omi pointed a finger at Youji, "What were you thinking? 'Well, we haven't had a mission in awhile, so it's okay to leave the shop unattended and go on a vacation?' You were both completely off guard."  
  
"But if we hadn't come, this wouldn't have worked" Youji teased, shaking a finger at him. Omi blushed first with embarrassment, which turned into anger.  
  
"You call –this- a success?!" Omi pointed the accusation finger in the direction of the bed, which had seemed to have been Ken's best friend for the past couple hours.  
  
"Yes, it was foolish." Aya looked down, "We shouldn't keep things from each other anymore."  
  
"Thank you, Aya." Omi looked pleased.  
  
"But you have to admit, we're good stalkers. I mean, even the apple people were- -"  
  
"The apple people . . .?" Omi fumed, "And that's another thing! Youji, how did you know about the apple allergy thing?"  
  
"Well, when I was eight I went on this exchange program to Germany and. . ."  
  
"You know what? Forget it." Omi cut him off with a wave of his hand.  
  
"In any case, there's no need for us to stay here" Aya interjected.  
  
"What about Schwarz?" Youji asked.  
  
"They're always going to be after us. We can't change that, but we are very unsafe here. We should clear our traces here as soon as possible and go back without attracting too much attention." Aya dictated.  
  
"I agree." A muffled voice spoke up from the bed next to them, and they looked as Ken sat up.  
  
"Ken-kun! Are you okay?!" Omi asked quickly holding out a hand, and then recoiling it in uncertainty. Ken smiled.  
  
"Thanks for taking care of me," he said seriously. Ken could remember Omi carrying him off the ice and into Aya's car, with some help from Youji, and sitting with him in the backseat all the way back to the hotel room. He recited some rhymes and told him stories while holding his hand to keep him slightly conscious. He remembered the feel of his cold hand linked with his, and Omi's warm breath floating onto his cheek as he talked. That's what kept him awake. He could almost feel it, now.  
  
"Mm. Well, that's what teammates do." Omi shrugged; blushing.  
  
"I guess we can't go skiing anymore." Ken said remorsefully.  
  
"Correction: YOU can't go skiing. Aya and I plan to make the best of it on our last day here." Youji smiled, throwing a loose arm over the redhead's shoulders. "But why don't you two enjoy yourselves? You know. . . without us?" he winked.  
  
Ken flushed red, "Hey, we're not like that. . ."  
  
"We could rent a movie!" Omi said cheerfully. Completely having missed Youji's implications, he grabbed and flipped through the yellow pages on the nightstand, "What movies do you like, Ken? Do you mind black and white?"  
  
"hmm? Oh. Anything's fine. . ." Ken said quickly, almost not realizing exactly what was going on.  
  
"Oh, good, it's settled, then." Youji said, grabbing his coat, and Aya's sleeve, "We'll see you later then!" He dragged Aya out the door. There was a slam, and the two were left alone.  
  
"Ah. I can use Youji's car. I'm sure they're taking Aya's." Omi busily put the book back in its place, "You see, because of the cold, I'm sure that they won't mind, and Youji also left his key here, so. . ."  
  
"Omi?" Ken interrupted the pointless one-sided conversation.  
  
"Uh, err-y-yes! Yes." Omi said as he fidgeted with his position nervously before finally standing still.  
  
"Did you mean what you said back there?" Ken asked, unsure if it had all been an illusion.  
  
"I think I did. I still wasn't sure if it was real." Omi smiled nervously.  
  
"Yeah, well---" Ken rubbed the back of his head with embarrassment.  
  
"So it was real?"  
  
"Yeah." Ken looked up from his covers, into bright blue eyes that stared back with the same disbelief as his.  
  
"Could I---?" Omi approached, holding out his hand towards Ken's cheek.  
  
"- - just to make sure, right?" Ken nearly breathed. His hand already found its way to Omi's cheek by the time their lips touched. It was short, but they were both sure, now. Omi's cheeks were alive as he pulled away with a slight laugh.  
  
"I'll be back in about a half an hour. Just hold tight until then, okay?" he left the room in what seemed a flash of light.  
  
To Ken it was a brilliant flash of light. All colors seemed to radiate from Omi's smile like a prism of brightness. He felt giddy . . . and consequently more than deserving of a good slap in the face, but he supposed, just for now. . .  
  
. . . it could wait.  
  
.....................................  
  
"Uaaah!" Omi jumped as the screen flashed with lightning, bringing up the edge of the covers to his chin to bury himself more. He laughed the fear off, nudging closer to Ken who was on the opposite side of the bed. Ken stiffened. It was like Omi rented a scary movie in order to give him an excuse to get closer. Not that he minded, but it was a little conniving of him.  
  
And just a little cute.  
  
Youji might have had something wrong to say if he saw the two of them under the covers together, so Ken had been using his extra acute assassin senses to listen for footsteps outside the door before they came inside. Several times he'd pushed Omi away as a housecleaner passed the hall, so he was a little nervous in that way, but the movie wasn't as scary as Omi pretended it to be.  
  
Ken sat up straight as he felt his bare foot touched by Omi's sock-covered feet playfully.  
  
That little. . .  
  
Ken smiled, looking over at an almost unnaturally happy Omi, who pretended to be completely absorbed in the movie. So, that's the way they were going to play it, huh? Ken grinned deviously as he reached his hand under the covers coming at Omi with a surprise tickle attack.  
  
Omi's hands flailed up as he laugh-yelled, "Ken-kuuun!". He twisted, jumping off the bed, grabbing the pillow from where he was laying, and whacking it defensively at Ken's head. Ken put his hands over his head, blocking the attack, and by the time Omi was done throwing it a couple times, they were both nearly in tears from laughter.  
  
The movie panned out to show a piano playing on its own, followed by some cheesy organ music. Omi climbed back onto the bed and lay belly down, kicking his feet carelessly into the air, and watching the TV screen again.  
  
"Omi. . .Do you like this movie?" Ken ventured into a conversation.  
  
"I don't know. Do you?" Omi asked happily.  
  
"It's not much of a horror film."  
  
"Oh, no." Omi agreed, wobbling his feet, "It's not a good horror film, but I like the main character."  
  
"You mean that guy? He's a little plain." Ken asked as a man came onto the screen.  
  
"I think he's wonderful. At the end he confesses his love to Elizabeth, you know." Omi smiled.  
  
"Oh, look. Now you've gone and spoiled the ending for me."  
  
"You mean you really couldn't see it coming?" Omi asked, sitting up.  
  
Ken raised his eyebrows. "Well, no." he said frankly, "I guess I never realized."  
  
...............Meanwhile- in a janitor closet not to far away....................  
  
"Aww, Ken! Come on! We want some action!" Youji rolled his eyes as he dug his hands into the popcorn, popping a few into his mouth. The hidden Camera in the VCR was working great, but it wouldn't do any good if Ken continued to be such a wimp.  
  
He motioned the bowl over to the other 5, "Anyone want some?"  
  
"Not until I get my twenty bucks!" Schuldig thrust his finger accusingly at Youji's nose. "I can't believe you deadheads."  
  
Aya and Youji threw a unanimous glare in his direction. Schuldig cringed in fear.  
  
"Hey, money doesn't grow on trees, you know? Besides, you broke the agreement!" Youji said, glancing over to an ashamed Crawford and Farfarello.  
  
"They didn't MEAN to cause any damage . . . it just . . . comes naturally." Schuldig shrugged, "Besides, I think my BRILLAINT performance makes up for any damage they might have done."  
  
"Yeah, that apple thing was hilarious," Youji laughed.  
  
"I think we deserve at least SOMETHING. I had to pretend I was in love with Siberian. The humiliation should at least be worth a twenty." Schuldig fumed.  
  
"I agree with Schuldig. The directions to your pitiful 'hideout' were awful. You weren't even there." Crawford reminded them. "Was that just something else to improve the credibility of your plan?"  
  
Youji shrugged, "Maybe . . .?"  
  
Nagi pointed to the screen. "Hey, I think we're getting some action."  
  
The entire room's attention was drawn to the TV. A sigh of disappointment circled the closet.  
  
"awww, it's just kissing." Youji crossed his arms behind his head, "If Ken had any brains he would have already taken it to the next level."  
  
"At this rate, nothing will ever happen!" Schuldig threw his hands out exasperatedly.  
  
"Just wait." Crawford smirked, "I see good things on the horizon."  
  
"Alright!!" Youji perked up, "On the horizon of tonight, or what?"  
  
"Soon. . ."  
  
"How soon?"  
  
"We might have to pull an all-nighter," Crawford pushed up his glasses.  
  
"Damn. I hope the janitor doesn't come back before then." Youji bit his thumb, as he pushed away a mop that started leaning too close.  
  
"We could . . . take care of that." Schuldig smirked. Behind him, Farfarello licked his pointy thing.  
  
"Umm, thanks but no thanks?" Youji sweat-dropped nervously.  
  
"You know, all things considered, I think this plan worked out well." Aya suddenly said, out of the dark of the corner behind the shelf of cleaning supplies.  
  
"Yeah, but we never did get to go skiing," Youji sighed.  
  
"One more day wouldn't hurt. . ." Aya said hesitantly.  
  
"Really, Aya?!" Youji threw his arms around him, sending a broom falling on Schuldig's head, as Aya widened his eyes in surprise. "You're the best!"  
  
"Does that mean we have to stay here?" Nagi asked in monotone.  
  
"I knew this would happen." Crawford sighed.  
  
..............................................  
  
A/N: Guess what, everyone? I never realized that I just wrote two whole chapters in third person, when the rest of the story was in Ken's point of view. XD Whoops. Why doesn't anyone tell me these things? I went back to read it before posting this. That's hilarious.  
  
I think that was the ending. o.o? I left it open-ended just in case . . . but I don't think there will be any more.  
  
Once again, thanks for reading and supporting this story! I really appreciate it! Thank you! 


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